Pleasure of the President
by Indarae
Summary: The First Daughter is missing, California’s collapsing, the Slayers are having dreams, the First Family is falling apart in the mix... and CJ broke her favorite mug. Can the Sunnydale crew keep the Bartlet administration afloat?
1. Shakes and Quakes

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine. Whedon and Sorkin's only.

Summary: The First Daughter is missing, California's collapsing, the Slayers are having dreams, the First Family is falling apart in the mix... and CJ broke her favorite mug. Can the Sunnydale crew keep the Bartlet administration afloat? 

A/N: As promised (threatened?) a crossover, the first internet-posted of my fanfiction career. Also, a first published foray into two favorite fandoms: West Wing and Buffy, of course! It's still a work in process, with the master copy approaching 40 pages at this point (my major HP works generally push 150), though this promises to be a bit shorter. In other words... there's worlds to go! 

Note to readers: this story happens immediately following the Buffy series finale and the season four West Wing finale. In other words, this entire story hinges on MAJOR SPOILERS. Did you get that? SPOILERS AHEAD! All episodes of both series are considered fair play! If you haven't seen the finales of either, I'll quickly bring you up to date. SPOILERS, spoilers and more spoilers. With that out of the way: 

Previously on Buffy the Vampire Slayer... Buffy was kicked out of the house but saved the world anyway, Faith and Principal Wood made with the smoochies, Willow did a spell to make all Potentials into real live Slayers, Spike died to save the world and didn't believe Buffy loved him, Anya kicked the bucket, and Giles played Dungeons and Dragons with Andrew.

Previously on The West Wing... Vice President Hoynes resigned to prevent a sex scandal, Drunken Amy asked Donna if she was in love with Josh, Will seemed unnerved as the Senior Staff learned of the truth behind Shareef's assassination, Toby's babies were born, Jean Paul slipped drugs into Zoey's drink at her graduation party, Zoey was kidnapped, and the President invoked the 25th Amendment until she's recovered, effectively putting scary Speaker of the House Glen Walken in charge of the United States.

Chapter One – Shakes and Quakes

Even a few hours in the White House with the Republican were enough to send most of the senior staff scurrying to hide – except for Toby, and he was still riding high on the adrenaline following the easy birth of his twins. Will and CJ had locked themselves into Josh's office to put the Republican off the scent. Donna knew they were there, should anything happen, and Josh was too busy trying to calm Leo down to notice they'd taken shelter.

"He'll need remarks for when he takes back power," Will muttered. He was trying hard not to cringe at every odd noise from the bullpen. "You don't think he'll come looking for us, do you?"

"You're jumping subjects again," CJ whispered back, rubbing at her forehead – her headache had gotten worse over the past two hours or so, since she broke her mug. She opened up an internet browser on Josh's computer. "And no, I don't think the Republican will come after you. He'll be after me, though. I'll have to do a briefing, about something. He's – he's a sexist, sizist, overbearing, rightwing, Republican -"

"Shh! Someone will hear you!" Will smacked her shoulder. "Where's the copy of the ransom note? Have there been any updates?"

CJ glared over her shoulder at him. "I think they'd tell us."

"Not with King Republican in there." Will glanced around at the walls of Josh's office, covered with snapshots of Senators, Representatives, and Governors poised to be the next Vice President of the United States of America. "Just check CNN or something. People call in tips."

She grabbed up the remote and planted it into Will's hand. "Do it yourself, hotshot. What do I look like, your mother?"

"No. My mother is five-two and blonde." He ducked CJ's swipe and flicked on the television, flipping automatically to CNN. Unexpectedly, it wasn't Zoey's kidnapping making the news cycle. "Um, CJ?"

The Press Secretary had gone on checking her email and was griping about the new White House server being slow. "What is it, Will? The Republican sonofabitch has Debbie sending out memos!"

"CJ, look at this." He turned up the volume on the television, simultaneously calling out, "Hey, Donna, you want to get in here?"

CJ was staring at the screen with her jaw hanging open. "Holy shit... What's going on? Does the President know about this? Does Leo know? Hell, I've probably got the press banging on my door -"

"What's up?" Donna asked, sticking her head in the office.

Will beckoned her in and shushed her at the same time, gesturing to the monitor. Her response was much the same as CJ's as she fully entered the office and closed the door. The watched in silence as a voice-over came on. "This is Nancy Rutherford reporting from Sunnydale, just south of LA – or, what used to be Sunnydale. About two hours ago, an earthquake registering an astonishing 8.3 on the Richter Scale tore the town to shreds and, as you can see out behind me, brought the entire town collapsing in on itself, into the underground fault line. Residents, over the past few weeks, have reported a number of odd occurences and have been leaving in droves, but our cameras caught the last bus of schoolchildren leaving with their principal, barely making it out alive. Principal Wood, could you describe your daring escape?"

The camera turned to show a yellow school bus surrounded by several dozen girls and accompanied by a few adults. The principal was leaning heavily on a young woman, presumably his significant other from the dirty looks she was throwing the reporter. "School was closed a few weeks ago, but these girls are a part of our winning martial arts team and refused to leave town. We headed out when the building started shaking – I think one of our supervisors was lost when it collapsed. The roads were shaking while I drove. I don't know how many died when it fell in. Buffy – Miss Summers, our guidance councilor – almost didn't make it onto the bus."

"We have to get to a hospital," the woman supporting the principal put in. "Robin was injured when the building started collapsing. They lifted the injured girls out on a helicopter a few minutes ago. But – Robin, let Buffy clean this up, okay?"

"Thank you for your time, Principal Wood," the reporter put in. "Rescue crews have been on the spot for the past hour and a half, but have found no survivors in the crater, thus far. We'll keep you posted."

CJ ripped the remote from Will's hand and flipped over to MSNBC. "Donna, I need you to find Leo and Josh. Let them know what's happening in California. Will... Will, where's Sunnydale? I should know this."

"California 48th," Will said softly, lowering himself into a chair. "Elsie spent a few years at Sunnydale High."

"Damn. Donna?" CJ crossed to the door and poked her head out. "Donna, once Leo and Josh are around, would you get Sam on the phone? Make sure he's okay?" 

Will ripped his glasses off and rubbed his face. "This is bad. Bad. Zoey and L.A. collapsing on itself. We can't take this."

"The nation can't take this," CJ replied. She grabbed Will's shoulder so tightly that he winced. "We're gonna get through it. Now get up and write me a summary of that to give to the press. Go find me information. Call those contacts of yours in the 47th. We might have an asshole Republican filling in for President, but this administration isn't going to sit around on our butts."

+

"I wonder if I can collect insurance." Buffy poked at the bandage around her middle. "I can get insurance money, right? We had earthquake insurancy-stuff?"

Giles and Xander were at her bedside, while Dawn was perched on the windowsill of the hospital room and one of the new Slayers was tucked into the other bed, sleeping off her blood loss. "I'm afraid I can't answer that," Giles replied, slipping off his glasses to clean them. "Anya did all the finances. We can't really ask her."

Xander slumped and the door opened as Andrew came into the room. "Hey, there, cool people. I brought food." He showed the tray in his hands before setting it at Buffy's beside. "I hope the nurse isn't angry with me. Er... here's some donuts. And some coffee, but it's the icky hospital kind. And I brought tea for Mr. Giles, but it's the hospital stuff too. Dawn, do you want the twinkee? They only had one in the machine."

"The twinkees are Xander's thing," Dawn said.

Andrew tossed the package to Xander who, due to lack of depth perception, missed it by a mile. "Ooh. Sorry, forgot, eye thing. Uhh... Buffy, do you want chocolate cake or puffy glazed thingy?"

"If I don't have insurance, I can't pay for the donuts," Buffy muttered. "I had insurance when I worked for the school."

"Well, the school fell into the Hellmouth, too," Giles said. "It's possible you were still on the payroll when it happened... you'd have automatic insurance coverage, then."

"I don't want to move to Cleveland," Dawn said. "What if Dad wants us to come live with him in Spain with his secretary?"

"Dad doesn't remember child support most of the time. I doubt he'll remember what town we live in, if it ends up on the news in Madrid, or wherever he is. Is Madrid in Spain?" Buffy asked, pursing her lips.

Giles rolled his eyes and took a donut. "Ahh, the miseducation of today's youth."

"We could head up to L.A. and see what Angel and co. are up to," Xander suggested over a bite of twinkee. "Faith was helping them."

"What about... Paris? I've always wanted to go to Paris," Andrew said. "Or there was an episode of Star Trek where – never mind, I'm supposed to be cool now -"

"We should find as many of the new Slayers as we can. And we should find out of Willow's spell extends to Potentials who will be born, or if it only activated all Potentials alive today." Giles crossed to take a seat beside Dawn. "You may need to help Willow with a spell or two. Without the harmful Dark Magic of the Hellmouth, you should be able to harness your power more easily."

Dawn nodded. "Magic research girl. Got it. Say... does this mean I get the semester off of school?"

"We'll apply for home-schooling status, once we've got a home," Buffy said. She glanced around. "Um... does anyone have a relative we can beg for lodging?"

"My brother William has a villa in the south of France," Giles offered.

There was a long pause as the others stared at him. "No takers, then?" Buffy put in. "Well, then... we're off to see the wizard. Any ideas where to go? Any crises? And where the hell's Faith?"

"Playing kissy with Principal Wood," Andrew said. "It's kinda scary. Okay, it's really icky, and I don't like it."

"Cleveland," Giles said.

Xander shook his head. "No with the cold winters. Couldn't we go fight demons in Hawaii?"

Faith banged into the room. "D.C. We've got to get to D.C. B, where's the remote? Turn on CNN?" When no one moved fast enough for her, she pulled the remote out of Buffy's hands and turned the monitor on herself. "The president's daughter got kidnapped, at a nightclub. An agent got shot at the scene and they've got a ransom note, but nobody's sayin' if the picture on the thing's really the kid."

"Uh uh. No way. That's police stuff, not us. No demons involved?" Buffy shifted and tried to grab the remote, but Faith danced out of the way.

"I'd say that too, B, but I saw a picture of the girl. I've been having dreams about her every time I doze off. I don't know what's got her, but it's in D.C." Faith tossed the remote to Andrew, who fumbled it and ended up shattering the plastic on the floor. No one was paying attention to him anyway. "Robin says we should go for it. Come back and pick up the sickies after we find the girl."

Andrew frowned while gathering together shards of plastic. "Since when do you listen to Principal Wood?"

Buffy cut him off. "Faith, I'm not sure it's a good idea for the lot of us to go banging into D.C. After all, the place is crawling with politicians and press. If one of them gets a good look at a vampire, we're done for!"

"Not if we're careful." The other Slayer took to pacing. "Look, B, I've had dreams about them hurting her. There's something about her bloodline that makes her special. This isn't a bunch of terrorists, this is a bunch of cult groupies or demons meaning to offer her up. She's our age, and I think it's our job to find her."

Buffy and Giles exchanged a glance before she gave a nod. "Alright. Book the flight and the car. I'll bet they've closed off the city – get us as close as you can. I'm going too."

Faith nodded. "You, me, Giles, and Willow. Any others?"

"Me!" Dawn called, but Buffy shot a glare in her direction. "Fine," she sulked, "I'll fix that incantation."

"You can't go, Faith," Giles put in. "You'll be recognized. Plus, the girls need a leader. Stay here, in case something goes wrong."

She frowned, but ended up nodding. "As much as I hate to stay round here, you're right. You need more than three, though."

"Kennedy or Rona, one of the new Slayers – they could use on the job training," Buffy said. "Let's get going. She probably doesn't have much time."

+

"Yes, sir, I'll chop myself off at the knees so as to be shorter than your bulkiness, sir," CJ muttered under her breath, taking care not to slam the Oval Office door behind her and show her displeasure with the Speaker of the House – she refused to call him the president. Debbie and Charlie offered her identical, tired looks as she went on her way toward the press area. Several aides and temps scurried away after one look at her face – red as a tomato, she supposed – and even Donna offered a quick wave instead of stopping her to chat.

Looming. The dumb Republican bastard accused her of looming over his shoulder and demanded that she wear only flats in his presence. What did he think he was, the King of the World? "Carol, I need you to send someone home to pick up a pair of gym shoes for me. The _Acting_ President has requested that I lose a few inches."

Carol cringed and CJ stormed past her. That would show the man – she'd change into gym shoes in the door of his office just to show him what she thought of his rules –

She slammed the door behind her, as she'd done more than once after meetings with Toby, Danny, or Leo. Usually, it resulted in a satisfying slam which let the offending party know, halfway across the building or not, that she was not a woman with whom one messed. This slam was beyond anything she'd created before. She heard wood creak and splinter, and the tinkle of glass shattering across the hallway, then utter silence.

Even the background hum of White House life had stopped. CJ slowly turned to assess the damage, and could only cringe as she saw Carol standing just outside the door and bleeding from nicks and cuts. "Carol?" The door had been utterly destroyed. The top half of the frame was ripped away from its hinge and snapped nearly in half by force, held together only by splinters of wood.

It was only moments before Toby and Donna came running, followed by half the junior staffers and several secret service agents. Carol's face had paled into white as she raised a hand to cradle her bleeding cheek, and Ginger was at her side to help. "I- I didn't mean -" She didn't stutter often, but the destruction she'd just caused was beyond anything imaginable. "I didn't shut it any harder than normal." She'd been feeling funny all day, since before the California quake information had come to light. Her favourite mug's handle had snapped off while she argued with Leo over staffing the acting president. She'd bent a spoon in half while stirring cream into her new cup and listening to Josh's reaction over the acting president's first meeting with officers concerning Zoey's disappearance. She snapped a stuck zipper and had been forced to change her skirt to the one she kept in her office in case of emergency. They'd all been explainable, really – until this.

Toby had negotiated the rubble and led her over to sit behind her desk, rubbing her arm soothingly. "Let's just get you calmed down... Alright, everybody, get maintenance down here to clean up the glass. Stop standing around and go do something... like work, maybe? Bonnie, get Carol some help, and Donna – check on Josh for me?"

Donna let out an audible gasp and dashed off while the others slowly started to disperse. "Oh, God, Toby... what if I made Josh...?" CJ shook her head and stared at the goldfish swimming in a little bowl on her desk, carefree and clueless. She couldn't bring herself to finish the thought aloud, as taboo as the subject had become.

"Just tell me what happened," Toby said. "Didn't you break that mug of yours today, too?"

"And a zipper and a spoon," CJ said weakly, slumping back into her chair. "I swear I didn't slam it any harder than usual. It's just – that damned Republican told me I wasn't allowed to wear heels in the room with him, because I was too tall and – God, is Carol alright? Please, let me go find Josh, make sure he's -"

Toby shook his head solemnly. "You're going to come over to my office. You're going to have a cup of tea – no coffee, you don't need that much more caffeine. And then we're going to act like nothing's happened, and I'll talk a maintenance guy into claiming the door was structurally weak. We can't have the press see you running around scared like this, and we can't let the buzzards smell discord."

"You're mixing your metaphors."

Even Toby's signature glare was soothing as CJ let him pull her to her feet. He was right, though – the scent of dissent could prove disasterous for the lot of them. She'd just have to keep her temper firmly in check around King Republican and his band of merry (and sexist, sizist, elitist) men.


	2. Conversations with Politicians

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine. Whedon and Sorkin's only.

Summary: The First Daughter is missing, California's collapsing, the Slayers are having dreams, the First Family is falling apart in the mix... and CJ broke her favorite mug. Can the Sunnydale crew keep the Bartlet administration afloat? 

A/N: Wow! I didn't expect the response I've gotten so far! Thanks for letting me know your opinions, it means a lot. Oh — and the Republican bashing is about to go up another level. Don't take it personally, anyone! I'm a Democrat, yes, but my cousin works in the Bush White House, so politcal tolerance is my experience. However, this being the Bartlet White House, and Walken being so sketchy... anything's fair game!

Chapter Two — Conversations with Politicians

"Josh is going home," Donna announced, leveling her gaze on Leo as if daring him to complain.

Leo glanced over the top of the report he was reading. "This have anything to do with CJ's door?"

Donna nodded, glancing at the door connecting Leo's office to the acting president. "It's the first episode he's had in ages. I think it was adding the noise on top of the stress and worry about Zoey. Er... what's He going to do about California?" She jerked her head toward the door, should Leo have any questions about who she meant.

"It's the only piece of normal business I'll let through," Leo admitted. "He'll be declaring it a disaster area and making sure the funding gets there. Hey, Donna — do you want to follow Josh home and make sure he's alright? I don't think he should be alone."

"Please, call me in if anything happens," Donna begged. "I can't bear to think about what she's going through... Please, Leo — and it'll help Josh, too -"

"The moment we've a word," the Chief of Staff stated, nodding toward the exit by way of dismissal. He glanced at the clock on his desk as Donna showed herself out. Nine hours and counting.

+

Learning the sewer systems of DC while crammed into the coach section of an airplane was a less than comfortable task, Buffy mused, as she squinted at the screen. The doctors had termed her recovery miraculous but hadn't the time to complain while she checked herself out, due to the hundreds of victims of aftershocks trickling into the hospital. According to the pilot, they weren't sure whether or not they'd actually be able to land in D.C., and if they were, they might not be able to disembark. With that, Buffy's seatmate had launched to his feet and charged to the front of the plane, leaving her alone to her devices. Last minute ticket purchases had Kennedy, Giles, Lindsay and Willow sitting at various points throughout the coach section.

Ready to offer an opinion about approaching the city center through the sewers, Buffy slammed the laptop shut and rose from her seat — only to bump into her returning seatmate. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to get in your way. Any luck with your destination?"

The man looked at her distractedly. "Er- only some. I can use the phone when we've reached the right altitude. It's just — it's imperative that I get into town immediately." He wasn't moving and happened to be blocking her into her seat, so Buffy decided to chat until he realized the position.

"Hot date? Or a business meeting?"

"Neither. There's a crisis, and I have to be there." The man shifted awkwardly. "I mean, I don't belong there anymore. I quit. But they're my friends and my family. They're worried sick about her, they shouldn't have to worry about me too, right?"

It sounded serious, but Buffy didn't have a clue what he was talking about. "Um — sorry to touch on a painful topic, but are you planning on explaining any of that?"

"Oh. OH. Um..." the man shrugged, almost bashfully. "I worked at the White House. Sam Seaborn."

The name was placed within moments. "Oh, wow. You're the guy who ran when Horton Wilde died. Oh — um, I voted for you, if it matters. Buffy Summers, entirely not-famous school counselor." And vampire slayer extraordinaire, but she had the feeling the man's response would be to run away were she to answer that way. She shook Mr. Seaborn's hand before returning to her seat and letting him settle into his. Learning more about Zoey Bartlet seemed to be a priority over chatting with Kennedy. "I don't mean to pry — well, yes, I guess I do — but what do you think you can do by going back?"

"A lot of it is probably for my own peace of mind," Mr. Seaborn admitted, flashing a quirky smile at Buffy. Her heart melted — silly politician grin. "Working for President Bartlet is like becoming a member of his family. I've watched Zoey grow up since I joined the campaign. If she gets hurt... I just can't imagine what it'll do to him. To Mrs. Bartlet, and to Leo, and Josh, CJ, Toby, Donna, and the others... I'm sorry, I don't mean to bore you..."

"No! You're not. Not at all. Tell me — what's Zoey like? She's about my age and all, it just seems weird to hear about terrible things happening to her." There, the pouty face Xander hated. If only it worked as well on politicians.

Success! "She's vibrant, outgoing... dating this French guy I'm sure wasn't good for her. She was dating the President's primary aide for a while, Charlie Young, but I think they split up in part because of the attempt on Charlie's life. Do you remember reading about it in the paper?"

"Do I ever. Who would forget an assassination attempt? So — do you know the guy that got shot? Was he the Josh you mentioned?"

"My best friend," Mr. Seaborn admitted. "Josh is doing fine, these days. Or he was, last time I saw him. But with Zoey being kidnapped... you heard about the ransom note, right? It came to Josh's office. I don't know why."

"And the note was in Arabic or something, right?" Buffy asked, glancing distractedly at her fingernails.

Sam frowned. "Yeah... but for some reason, it doesn't seem right. It's off somehow." He shook his head, as if dismissing the notion. "I'm sorry, Ms. Summers — what is it you do?"

"High school counselor and armchair detective. Or, I _was_ a high school counselor, until the school dropped into hell." She smiled, trying not to laugh at the myriad of expressions crossing the man's face. Confusion, disbelief, then realization.

"Sunnydale. I knew you looked familiar, I was watching CNN while we were trying to get here. You ran that whatever team, with the last busload of kids to get out?" Mr. Seaborn tapped on the arm of the seat. "Er... it was some martial arts thing?"

"Just a general martial arts club, kind of a take-back-the-night type of thing." Bending the truth had never been quite so much fun. "They're good girls. One of them's with me now, Lindsay Simon. All of us were supposed to go to a karate competition, but Lindsay's the only one up to doing it now." It was the nationals, held in Bethesda, and they'd been lucky enough to actually have a potential signed up to go. Sometimes the world worked in convenient ways.

Mr. Seaborn nodded solemnly. "Well, I'm not sure how close in you'll be able to get. We might be rerouted to Newark. Although... you know, I might be able to get you and your student a ride into D.C. proper. I'm picking a car up in New Jersey and driving the rest of the way in, if that's the case. I'd make the detour to central Maryland, but as I'm in a hurry -"

"Just let us off where ever's convenient," Buffy smiled. "I'm sure we can call and get a pickup from the White House area, even."

He leaned closer. "You know, I might be able to wrangle a tour for you. Once Zoey's found and things calm down. And as survivors of the earthquake, you might even warrant a meeting with President Bartlet."

After Zoey was found, Buffy firmly intended to be on a plane back to L.A. to work out insurance and find a new job. However, she gave a flirtatious grin and nodded, hoping it could help them get to the White House. "I'd be honored, Mr. Seaborn."

+

__

Her eyes were wide with fear, and she was bound and gagged in a musty cellar, or boiler room, or dark space. She was twenty-two, but she looked ten, younger than the home video images being played over and over on the television screen by countless networks. The men in the room with her were not men — they were monsters, faces hideously deformed, eyes yellowed and feral, and teeth sharp and canine. She was afraid, but unable to break her bonds as one poked at her with a booted toe and the others poured over books in the corner. She was bound, uncomprehending, in the center of a pentacle and a circle of burning candles.

CJ screamed herself awake, hardly comprehending that the darkness surrounding her wasn't the same as the darkness Zoey faced in a back room somewhere. Someone was at her side instantly, shaking her to full consciousness. 

"Are you alright? Can I get something for you?" It was Ginger, and she appeared beyond spooked. 

She finally caught sight of the clock on the desk. Only 7:30 p.m., and she'd been sleeping for hours on Toby's couch after shattering the door to her office. The Communications Director was nowhere to be found. "I'm alright. Sorry, Ginger — it was a bad dream. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Sometimes dreams can mean things. At least, that's what Margaret says... do you want to talk about it? Or- should I go grab Toby? Some coffee? A hairbrush?" Ginger stood, taking half a step toward the door.

"I dreamed about Zoey," CJ winced. "This is going to sound so stupid... it was a group of monster Satanists, and they were going to sacrifice her for a — I don't even know what. They were going to kill her, though."

Ginger shook her head. "That's horrible. But the ransom note said -"

"Have you looked at the picture? On the note? You can't tell it's Zoey. Leo thinks it's a fake. And I guess — I guess my subconscious agrees, or something, but I want desperately for that note to be the truth and for Zoey to be let go and for the president to be the president -"

"Hey, calm down." Ginger grabbed CJ's shoulders. "It's gonna be fine. They'll get her back."

Toby poked his head into the office. "CJ. Are you up to a drive?"

Ginger opened her mouth to answer, but CJ shook her head at the assistant. "What do you need me for, Tobus?"

"Sam's coming in to Annapolis. It's the closest planes are landing. I need you to pick him up and bring him in. He needs to be here. You alright with that?" He crossed to his desk, flipping through stacks of paper and generally keeping himself busy. "Leo's going to cover this evening's briefing whether or not you do this."

"I'll get him. When?"

"Leave now. Take Will, before he loses it and yells at Walken. Oh, and Sam's bringing people with him — survivors of the Sunnydale earthquake. I don't know why, but you're gonna have to take Danny Concannon's van. He offered it."

CJ narrowed her eyes, but chose not to respond to that one. Whenever Danny offered anything, there was a price. "Get me the keys and I'll go. I need to get out of here for a while."

"You'll have a new door when you get back. Now bring Sam home."

+

Josh had been on the phone to Stanley for hours. While he worked through the flashes of being back at Rosslyn, Donna stayed nearby and kept a close watch on the television. The death toll in California had risen, and Zoey still hadn't been accounted for — despite a total of four ransom notes, each from different organizations and asking for different results. As Josh continued describing what had happened in CJ's office, Donna's cell phone rang. She excused herself to the kitchen to take the call. "Hello?"

"Donna, it's Sam. I'm about to land in Maryland."

"Sam — oh, thank God. What do you know?" She started poking through the cupboards, looking for food of any sort to craft into a dinner, out of reflex. 

"Nothing. Just what CNN's been saying, and MSNBC. Qumari terrorists. Do we know anything else?" 

Donna sighed, shaking her head, though he couldn't see it. "It might not be the Qumaris, Sam. We've got more than one note. I can't say more over the phone... say, were you close to the earthquake? Did you lose anything?"

"I'm okay." He didn't sound okay. His voice was wavering, and Donna could hear people talking to either side of him. "I grew up in California, you get used to the earthquakes after a while — but this was the big one. It was something. Most of my stuff's still in DC or I'd have some cracked china. The apartment building next to mine was nearly destroyed, and we're thirty miles from the epicenter."

"You saw the news conference about the President."

It wasn't a question, but Sam answered anyway. "President Half-wit Walken. Oh, goodie. Will I even be let in the White House?"

"I doubt it. Listen, Sam, I'm at Josh's -"

"Josh? Is he alright? What's going on?"

Leave it to Sam to know when Josh was having problems. It was odd to remember Sam's obliviousness when Josh needed it most. "CJ broke a door early this afternoon. We're not quite sure how — it just shattered, it was scary. But the door frame snapped in half and made a loud bang, which sounded just like -"

"A gunshot," Sam finished. There was an uncomfortable pause. "But didn't Josh say that Stanley said music was his trigger? Music and sirens?"

"He hadn't been in this kind of stress. We thought he was better. I thought he was better. But I guess it takes more than we'd thought." Donna pulled out a package of macaroni and cheese and started looking for an expiration date. "Don't go to the White House, Sam. Come here. At least until Zoey's found and President Bartlet's taken control again. Walken won't let you in."

There was a pause, and Donna heard Sam talking to someone else faintly. "Yeah, I'll head over there, Donna. CJ's picking me up. Do you mind if I bring a few people? They're from the epicenter — one of them's on the karate team and is supposed to be in Bethesda at some national tournament thing. Is Josh up for the company?"

"Hold on a minute." She covered the receiver and peeked out into the living room. "Josh?"

He held the phone away from his ear. "Yeah? What is it, Donna?"

"Sam's coming here. He wants to bring a couple people from the epicenter. With Washington crashed, I don't think they can get to their hotel or something." He looked more centered than when she'd helped him into his apartment, shaking and holding onto her arm for dear life.

"I'll be fine. I can always retreat," he offered, gesturing vaguely toward his bedroom.

Donna nodded and ducked back to her phone. "Alright, Sam. Bring em, but tell them not to be too loud. And maybe you can try to talk CJ into letting Danny interview them? Once Zoey's found, he'll be happy for something to cover."

"I'll talk to Miss Summers," Sam said. "I've got to go, we're landing. See you in a few, Donna. Hang in there." And he hung up.

Once Zoey's found. The phrase echoed, though she'd uttered it. Optimism seemed so easy, until now. There was no telling what had happened to the President's youngest daughter. According to Josh, through Charlie, Zoey had been slipped a drug in her cocktails, possibly Ecstasy, and possibly something else entirely. Jean Paul had been hauled back to the White House and was being questioned by the Secret Service. The Bartlets had disappeared into the Residence, presumably to pray. And sitting in her president's chair was a political enemy.

Compared to all of that, Amy's question seemed stupid to dwell on.


	3. Things That Go Bite in the Night

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine. Whedon and Sorkin's only.

Summary: The First Daughter is missing, California's collapsing, the Slayers are having dreams, the First Family is falling apart in the mix... and CJ broke her favorite mug. Can the Sunnydale crew keep the Bartlet administration afloat? 

A/N: Mmmmm, Order of the Phoenix... if you haven't read it (and can appreciate the anger inherent in being a teenager), go get it! Hm. What do Order of the Phoenix and Office of the President have in common? Both appear in my notes as "OotP". Good thing I can tell the difference, or I'd have been screwed on my test... Right, I doubt any of you want to hear me ramble. Go on and enjoy!

Chapter Three — Things that Go Bite in the Night

"Miss Summers, we're about to land."

Mr. Seaborn shook her awake, and she was pulled out of a vision of their quarry, tied up in a dark room and surrounded by a dozen vampires. It was dark outside the plane, too, as the frame shuddered under windsheer. "Thanks, Mr. Seaborn. Did you enjoy talking to Kennedy?"

He smiled. "She's very nice, but she had some bad news for you. The championship was cancelled. She said you'd have a message on your answering machine, if it weren't at the bottom of a crater."

Championship? Buffy rubbed her eyes. Oh, that. "Damn. We came all this way for nothing?"

"That, and every hotel from here to New York is filled with tourists trying to get home and travelers locked out of D.C. Josh's apartment is actually in Alexandria — in Virginia - so we'll have to bypass the whole of the District to get there. It sounds like everything's a mess." Mr. Seaborn plastered on his politician grin. "Don't worry. If Josh can't deal with five extra residents, I can call in a few favors from Will Bailey. The guy owes me a job."

"So they only closed down Washington D.C.? Couldn't the kidnappers have made it to Alexandria?" The plane shook as they landed and started taxing.

Mr. Seaborn winced. "Yeah. They could've. Listen, asking whoever picks us up about the kidnapping probably won't be the best of ideas. You could talk about... karate. Or being a councilor. Or... whatever."

"Shopping," Buffy said brightly. "Willow, Xander, and I were going to go shopping today. Yesterday. I don't know what day it is. There's only one problem — the mall is with my answering machine."

"Right." He paused. "Um... politics?"

"Didn't really vote for you. I forgot to register." Buffy gave her best dumb blonde' grin.

Mr. Seaborn snorted. "I figured. After all, you couldn't have — Sunnydale wasn't in the same district as I ran in. Well... do you play poker?"

"Andrew taught everybody to play Dungeons and Dragons the other night. And I happen to be a master at crazy eights."

"Baseball?"

Buffy beamed. This was actually fun. "Broke a window with one."

"Nagging mothers?"

"My mother's grave is with the mall and my answering machine."

The politician grew silent at that, until the captain came over the intercom. "I've got some bad news, folks. The FBI is shutting down the airport due to a federally mandated expansion of the search area for the President's daughter who, I'm told, disappeared early this morning. No planes will be leaving until further notice. If you're supposed to find a connecting flight..."

"Guess I'm stuck with you," Buffy said, ignoring the rest of the message.

Mr. Seaborn nodded slowly. "They'll find her. They have to."

They wouldn't find her, Buffy mused, and thought back on her vision of the girl in the dark room. No, the FBI wouldn't have a clue — but she would.

+

"They're shutting the airport down," Will panted, jogging up. "They got in just in time."

CJ nodded, watching people start to trickle out of the gate, all with angry looks on their faces. "It's a good thing we can't get elected again. The people don't look happy with all this."

"At least we didn't shut down a freeway in Orange County again," Will observed. He seemed to take Sam's defeat as his fault. It wasn't, but CJ didn't care enough to correct him. "Speaking of freeways... you saw the backup once we managed to bully our way out of D.C. How are we going to get back?"

"We're not. We're headed to Josh's. It'll be back roads the whole way." She glanced at her watch. "It's two a.m., Will, there won't be another soul on the road. We'll be fine. If Danny's van stays in one piece."

Will muttered something under his breath. Whatever it was, CJ agreed with him. Danny's van turned out to be well-worn': rusted through at several points and possesses of brakes that made a funny noise every few uses. She had plans to leave several nasty surprises for the reporter, as payback for the Shareef story looming on the horizon.

And then Sam came through the gate, followed by a petite blonde, a redhead, a brunette, a slightly Hispanic-looking girl, and an older, distinguished-looking gentleman. Sam was hugging her in an instant, and she didn't restrain her strength while giving him a squeeze back, which was probably her first mistake. "CJ — air," he wheezed, and she backed off quickly.

"God, I'm sorry — it's been the most awful day. I don't know what's happened to me. I broke a door, and a zipper, and my favorite mug, and — I'm having dreams about Zoey, Sam. I'm scared stiff." She grabbed Sam's shoulders, and he held her tightly.

Over Sam's shoulder, she watched the blonde and the redhead exchanging significant looks. "Hey, there, Claudia Jean. Zoey's gonna be okay. Now let's go see Josh."

Will appeared far too chipper as they headed down the concourse. "Alright, Sam, who are all these people you've picked up? I don't know if Danny's van can handle them."

Sam raised an eyebrow at CJ. "Danny's...?" He trailed off as CJ rolled her eyes and gave a shrug of helplessness. "Right. Whatever. Alright, this is Lindsay Simon, she's the one who was supposed to be participating in the karate competition," he began, gesturing to the brunette. The redhead and the dark-haired women were next. "Willow Rosenberg and Kennedy de Vega, who were supposed to chaperone a much larger group of girls. That's Rupert Giles, the school librarian."

"Please, call me Giles," he put in, in a thick British accent which reminded CJ of Lord Marbury.

"What, Rupert isn't good enough for you?" she couldn't help but crack.

He favored her with an incredibly sexy smile. "If you'd grown up with a given name of Rupert, you'd go by your last name, as well." Danny Concannon, eat your heart out, CJ mused. She grinned back.

"And this is Buffy Summers. She runs the martial arts program," Sam finished. 

"We're taking the back roads," Will put in. "We've got Danny Concannon's -"

Sam frowned and smacked Will's shoulder. "I know. You said that earlier."

Will was firmly fixated on Buffy Summers, who appeared oblivious. CJ smelled blackmail opportunities in the future; especially when Will blushed a deep scarlet. "Oh. Sorry, forgot."

__

+

"Midnight on the night when the moon reaches its fullest. It can't be done tonight," the first vampire said. "Why didn't we take her later?"

"You read the newspaper. She was going to France. It had to be done now. The Hellmouth in Sunnydale is closed — a new one must be opened!" an uglier vamp replied. "It's a good thing our maidens don't have to be virginal anymore."

Zoey curled tighter under their gaze. She was shaking and sweating, likely under the influence of yet another drug. "Are you sure she's the right one?" the first vampire asked. "She looks scrawny. How can she be powerful enough?"

"She's a daughter of a line of witches. Too bad they're Catholic. Repressed, the whole lot of them."

+

The van was sputtering, rather loudly. Will winced, glancing at CJ, who was asleep in the passenger seat. If he broke Danny's van, he was going to be in trouble. Hesitantly, he reached over and shook her shoulder, causing her to let out a loud shriek and swipe at his hand.

Yeah, that would bruise.

Before he accidentally rolled the van over, he pulled to the side of the road and shut the van off. "CJ, we're outside of Bethesda. I think. I don't know the town names. I don't think the van's going to make it."  


"I dreamed a bunch of Satan worshippers were going to sacrifice Zoey to open a portal to hell," CJ said.

That started a whispered discussion in the back of the van, inaudible due to Sam's snoring. Will leaned over and peered at CJ. "Are you alright? Isn't this the second dream about Satan worshippers killing Zoey in twenty-four hours?"

"Eighteen hours. I think. I'm sorry. I'm groggy." She was rubbing at her eyes. "It's only 3:30 am. What's wrong with the van?"

"That noise the brakes make? It's worse. And every time I go past 45, it makes this funny noise. Sort of.. kathunk, but it gets repeated a bunch." Though he tried saying it with complete seriousness, the late hour sent Will into a snort of laughter. "I sound like a Meineke commercial."

CJ sighed. "Think we can make it to a gas station?" Will nodded and started the car. Or, tried to start the car — it made a hideous screech before dying completely.

That was enough to wake Sam — that, or Ms. De Vega's elbow in his ribs. "Wh- Will, what did you do?"

"He broke Danny's car," CJ said softly, belying the spark of anger Will caught in her eyes. He cringed. "Will, how far are we from a gas station?"

"Few miles back... past the cemetery," Will muttered, trying to sink into his seat. "And I don't know if it was open. I wasn't paying attention, but it looked kinda dark." Will could've sworn he heard the blonde, Buffy, mutter "not another cemetery" from the back, but he wasn't sure.

CJ opened the door. "Alright, everybody out. Leave whatever luggage you can't carry. We'll be back for this thing with a tow truck." Before Will could breathe a sigh of relief, she snagged his arm. "And I think I'll just leave Danny to deal with you."

Will winced and sunk further into his seat. Just what he needed — an angry reporter watching his every move. However, without complaint, he handed the keys over to CJ and got ready for a long trek.

Buffy, at least, didn't seem annoyed. She was rummaging through her overnight bag and stuffing a few things into her purse. "Sorry about the being stranded bit," Will offered, drawn by the air of command surrounding her.

She favored him with a smile. "Not a problem. Just look out, alright? Cemeteries can be more than creepy."

Before he could respond, CJ grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. "Would you stop hitting on the karate coach and help me figure out where we are?" she hissed.

"It doesn't matter. There's a gas station," Will whined. He was tired, hungry, and he had NOT been hitting on her. He was sick of CJ treating him like a baby — though, really, the whining probably wouldn't help his case on that point. Adding the fact that he felt nervous around the man whose job he'd taken, Will found himself in quite the mood. 

He glanced over at the Californians, who were peering into the cemetery as group. Sam trudged over and folded out a map, using it as an excuse to mutter, "They're kind of creepy."

"They seemed interested in your dream, CJ." Will pointed randomly at the map, in case the British man looked over. "Do you think they were really coming here for the karate competition?"

"Miss Summers and Lindsay Simon didn't seem very disappointed when they heard it had been cancelled. And that Giles fellow keeps looking at you, Ceej." Sam shrugged and made a show of folding up the map. "Just be on the lookout, you know?"

CJ grinned. "Well, I've got the amazing Spanky and his sidekick, Lovesick Fool, to protect me."

"Am not," Will muttered. Oh, yeah. That was the way to prove his maturity.

+

"She's one of the Potentials the spell awakened," Willow said shortly. "It's kinda neat. There's sort of a glowy outline around you Slayer-types. I've got my own Slayer nightlight." She grinned over to Kennedy.

"How do we bring it up to her?" Buffy sighed, shaking her head. "Let's just figure out how to find the girl, first. Giles, is D.C. big on vampires?"

He shook his head, took of his glasses, and cleaned them. "I'm afraid not. Though that should make our search easier. Perhaps if someone can distract the politicians, Willow could do a demon locator spell? With the First out of the way..."

Willow and Kennedy exchanged glances, and Willow shrugged. "I could, but we'd have to get them out of the way for a while and snag that map Mr. Seaborn's got."

Giles glanced over at the group. "She must've had a Watcher, when she was of age. Though I suppose this answers our questions about who was Called. Even Potentials past the age of the traditional Slayer line have found their powers. There must be... somewhere between 3,000 and 5,000 Slayers on the planet now."

"Ask her, delicately," Buffy directed. "Lindsay, I want you to try to get Mr. Seaborn to show you the map, or something. Feign interest in D.C. He might let you have it. I can distract Mr. Bailey, since he keeps looking at me. Now... can we get away from the cemetery? It's giving me a wiggins."

+

"Well, it's this way," Will called, gesturing across the cemetery. "I turned the corner, so it should be easier if we just cut across." The Californians were exchanging looks. "Or... is that a problem?"

"Nope. Hunky-dory," the redhead — Willow, he was pretty sure — replied.

It was only a few meters to a road into the cemetery, which they followed, with Will in the lead. To his secret delight, he found himself walking next to Miss Summers. "So, how long have you lived in Sunnydale?" That was right. Smooth. Let her talk about herself. It had been ages since he'd had a date — this seemed like foreign territory after writing dozens of speeches for the President.

"I moved there in high school. I graduated in 1999 — I don't know if you'd remember, it made national news, but the school blew up at graduation. That was my school."

Will grinned. "Oh, I remember it. My younger sister — stepsister - went there for a few years; she graduated in '97. Elsie Snuffin?"

Miss Summers chuckled softly. "Oh, yes. No one could forget a name like Elsie Snuffin. The principal died that year."

"Weird things happened there. Everything was blamed on gangs on some drug, but the death rate was just astronomical. If Else hadn't been so close to graduating, Dad wanted to pull her out. He'd just married her mother." Dad and Elsie didn't get along, at first. Nor did Will and Elsie's mother, Deborah, for that matter. 

She nodded, glancing over into the field of gravestones. "Lots of weird things. There are far too many graves in Sunnydale."

Will was about to reply when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned — only to find himself face to face with the most hideous creature he'd ever set eyes on. It was man-shaped, slightly taller than Will, and smelled of freshly dug earth. Around its yellow eyes were fleshy ridges, and its teeth were pointed and vicious. Will let out a yelp of surprise before the creature grabbed one of Will's shoulders and took hold of his hair with the other hand. Yanking him closer, the creature sunk his teeth into Will's neck.


	4. Questions and Answers

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine. Whedon and Sorkin's only.

Summary: The First Daughter is missing, California's collapsing, the Slayers are having dreams, the First Family is falling apart in the mix... and CJ broke her favorite mug. Can the Sunnydale crew keep the Bartlet administration afloat? 

A/N: Just a thank you for all the kind words — the reviews make me want to keep posting, and I appreciate every one. Thanks J 

Chapter Four — Questions and Answers

CJ heard a shout from Will and turned from the sexy grin of Rupert Giles to find something tall, dark, and hairy — and identical to the monsters in her dreams of Zoey - with its jaws clamped on the speechwriter's neck. The karate coach was shouting orders to the others while she reached into her bag and pulled various objects out. 

Before CJ had time to question, a piece of wood was shoved into her hand and more of the creatures were emerging from behind headstones and between bushes. She turned to Giles and waved the stick around. "What -?"

"We've been ambushed. You will not believe me, but these are honest-to-goodness vampires. They turn to dust when you shove that stake through their hearts."

CJ stared vapidly. Crazy people. These were crazy people, and they were going to murder someone. She looked over to where the Latina woman was kicking and punching one of the things with strength beyond that of a normal human. They were going to get thrown in prison — she could see the headlines, "White House staff jailed for murder." And then, Ms. De Vega thrust the stake through the heart of the man attacking her — and he exploded into a shower of dust.

She turned back to Giles to demand more information only to find the British man locked in combat with not one, but two monsters. Without a second thought, she charged at one.

It was instinctive. A side kick to the monster's chest, a left-handed punch to its jaw. It retaliated by trying to sweep her feet out from under her, but she was faster, and landed another kick to its stomach. The thing hunched over from the force of her foot's impact and, driven by something beyond fear, she sunk the stake through its back with all her newfound strength. Just as the other one had done, it burst into dust, which floated away on the breeze and coated her suit in brown earth.

"Oh my God," she whispered, glancing up in time to catch Rupert Giles take out the thing — the vampire — he'd been fighting. "God, God, God... those were really... but how did I know how to..."

Sam was staring at her from the ground, where he was winded and clutching at a nasty looking cut across his forehead. "Jesus Christ, CJ, where the hell did you learn to do that?"

Giles dusted himself off and moved over to gingerly remove the stake from CJ's fist. She didn't fight it. "Miss Cregg, I know you've found today to be... difficult, for many reasons. But earlier, around the time you heard about the earthquake in Sunnydale, did you start to break things? Did it seem as though you had more strength than before?"

"A mug... and a zipper... bent a spoon..." CJ whispered. "I broke a door, it shattered the glass, and Carol got hurt..." She watched as Sam was hauled to his feet by Ms. De Vega, and Ms. Rosenberg pulled his hand away and started tending to the cut.

"When you were between the ages of 13 and 18, was there a British faculty member at your school?"

"I changed schools. There were... yeah, there was a different one at each school, but I didn't think... Mr. Price the librarian and Mr. Pullman the gym teacher, the soccer coach. But why is that —?"

Giles cut her off. "They were your Watchers, Miss Cregg. Into each generation is born a Slayer, one girl in all the world chosen as an instrument of Good to fight vampires and demons. The next Slayer is Chosen when the previous dies. Slayers are likely to be Called between the ages of 13 and 18; Potentials who age beyond are unlikely to be a Slayer. Did you turn 18 in high school?"

"Yeah... and Mr. Pullman retired that year..." CJ stared down at her hands. "Wait, does that mean this Slayer person died in the earthquake? And through some fluke, I'm the next one?"

"It's more difficult than that. Buffy, the Slayer, was trying to prevent a great evil from destroying the world. Willow found a spell to help, and Called every Potential to be a Slayer, all across the globe. Kennedy and Lindsay are both Slayers now, along with about 4,000 women all over the world. Willow shattered the line and gave Slayers the weapon to overcome evil." Giles came over and took CJ's shoulders carefully. "This power is a gift. You are not the Slayer, but you are a slayer, one of a community we've yet to create."

Sam finally succeeded in brushing Rosenberg and De Vega away. "While this is all well and good, I've a few questions. First and foremost — can we get out of this damned graveyard?"

Buffy crossed to CJ and Giles, half-carrying and half-dragging Will with her. She was holding a rag ripped from the hem of his shirt to a wound on his neck. "Back to the van, guys. I think the ones we dusted aren't alone. Giles — do you think this is the group holding the girl?"

"My dream!" CJ yelped. "I dreamed — I saw Zoey, and there were a bunch of things, and they were planning to sacrifice her. They were vampires, weren't they? And it wasn't just a dream." She turned to Giles, grabbing the tweed sleeve of his jacket. "Not a dream. Right?"

Sam crossed to Buffy's side and helped the woman maneuver Will's limp body. "He'll be okay, right? He won't get turned into a vampire or something?"

"He'll be fine. Just have a nasty headache from blood loss. I managed to dust the vamp before he drained Mr. Bailey here completely. And Ms. Cregg — we've all been having those dreams. They're Slayer dreams. They tell the future, and they direct which way we're supposed to go. Now, we just have to figure out where they have Zoey Bartlet."

Willow and Kennedy were taking the rear guard as they hurried back across the cemetery. "The one I dusted looked just like the guy in the dream I had in the car," Lindsay offered. "I think they must have a nest somewhere nearby."

"Danny's van better have a map of Bethesda," Sam muttered. "We can call Josh, have him drive over at dawn to jump the battery."

"We can call a cab and a tow-truck then," CJ countered. She turned to Giles then, ignoring Sam's moaning and whining. "What does all this mean to me? Will I have to leave my job and go back to California? Do I need another Watcher guy? Will my life be fighting these things?"

"We haven't worked all of the kinks out of the system, yet," the British man offered, hesitantly. "You see, we've several thousand Slayers, and no more Watchers. The evil that Buffy defeated was trying to destroy the Slayer line, and the Watchers went with them. We have a system to reinvent."

"But we can save Zoey," CJ put in, "preferably without the President knowing it wasn't the FBI?"

Giles nodded. "That we can. At least stealth is something we Watchers are good at."

+

Donna had dozed off when the phone started ringing. She was disoriented when she woke — after all, it had been years since she'd slept on Josh's couch out of her own volition, and she wondered for a few moments if she were stuck in some odd sort of dream. However, a loud thump from Josh's bedroom followed by a string of loud curses (interestingly enough, several seemed to be in languages other than English) roused Donna the rest of the way. She snagged the phone. "Josh Lyman," she muttered groggily.

"Donna? It's Sam. Danny Concannon's van broke, and we got attacked, and we're stuck in Bethseda." There was some commotion in the background.

It took a long moment before everything processed. "Wait. Attacked? Sam, are you alright?"

"It was — sorry, what's that? CJ wants the phone. I just wanted to — hey!"

"Donna, it's CJ. We were jumped by a group of high schoolers who were grave tipping or something. They ran off, and we wouldn't be able to identify them anyway. Sam's cut his forehead and the guys stabbed Will in the neck with something pointy. He'll be okay, but he needs some medical attention." More commotion. "He doesn't need a doctor, he's just woken up. We need you and Josh to come get us."

Josh wandered into the living room, hair sticking in all directions. "Donna? What's going on?"

"It's Sam and CJ. We've got to go pick them up. Danny's van broke, and something happened. CJ... where are you, precisely?" Donna grabbed a receipt and turned it over to jot down the information."

"Near the entrance to the Peaceful Hills Cemetery. It should be on a map. Listen, be careful, alright? And Donna — you know that cross necklace your grandma sent you? Wear that. And if Josh has one, he should wear a Star of David."

Donna's eyes narrowed. "CJ, what the hell -"

"Trust me. Bring some pencils or firewood. Something wood and pointy. Chopsticks! Bring as many wooden chopsticks as you can get your hands on! Hurry up and get here, there's a lot we've got to discuss." CJ hung up abruptly as a roar of commotion began in the background.

"You look confused," Josh stated blankly, rubbing at his eyes.

Donna shook her head. "Go put pants on. We've got to pick them up. Josh... what's a cross supposed to ward off? You know, in myths?"

Josh paused in the doorway to his bedroom. "A cross? Uh... vampires? Maybe werewolves or witches or something?" He frowned and scratched at his receding hairline. "Donna, what precisely did CJ say?"

"She told me to wear the cross necklace from my grandmother. I've never worn it. And she said you should wear a Star of David. You're not even religious — do you have one?" She rubbed at her tired eyes. "Go on, get dressed. We've got to pick up a bunch of chopsticks. We'll demand an explanation later."

+

Over two hours until dawn. The group in the van was none too comfortable, especially with the middle seat left open for Will to lie down and Buffy to tend his wound. He was conscious, if feverish and slightly delirious, and the Midol CJ had in her purse didn't seem to have any effect. Crouched between the driver's seat and the passenger side, Giles was cramming as much vampire and demon lore as possible into the short time available. "Religious symbols and holy water will ward off a vampire, stake through the heart and beheading will kill them and turn them to dust. After a vampire is created, the soul of the dead being leaves and the body is inhabited by a demon, which has access to the human's memories and experiences. However, the vampire IS NOT the human, the person it was before death. For example, if Mr. Seaborn were to be Embraced — that's the term for one being turned into a vampire, it requires the sharing of blood -"

"Hey!" Sam put in. "Will's the one who got his neck ripped open. I was just fine!"

Giles glared. "Fine, then. If Mr. Bailey were to be Embraced, he would no longer be the man you know. Killing the demon is preferable to allowing the vampire with his face to live. As you're here in Washington, Ms. Cregg, you shouldn't be dealing much with the supernatural. As I understand it, the presence of the media and politicians drive away the majority of the mystical community. They prefer to operate beneath the government's radar."

CJ nodded. "Alright then. So why do a bunch of vampires want Zoey Bartlet? She's the president's daughter, yes, and her family's been in the United States for a long time, on both sides... why is she special? Why take her, and when's the shit gonna hit? She's been gone for a full day."

"How do we know these Slayer dream things are real?" Sam demanded. "I mean — I've seen those monsters. And I saw how Ceej fought them; she couldn't do that a few months ago, that's for sure. However, prophetic dreams are a little beyond even my extent of belief." He drummed idly on the steering wheel. "It's nice that we'll be able to do something. I just don't know how much of this I can trust."

"You'll only dream about the really important stuff, CJ," Buffy put in, from her position on the floor of the van. She was the only member of the Sunnydale contingent to feel comfortable enough to use the press secretary's name — Will's too, but after being bathed in someone's blood, surnames became a moot point. "Apocalypses. Always dream about the apocalypses. And one time, the First Slayer came and haunted us all in our dreams, and there was this weird cheese guy. But mainly, the dreams tell you what to focus on, when you've got to throw the unimportant stuff aside and go for the big one."

She sighed. "I should be taking notes, shouldn't I. I'm in a reporter's van, and there's not a snip of paper!"

"Don't worry about that," Giles countered. "I'll send you photocopies of several of my reference books, including the book each Slayer is presented with traditionally. In addition, I'd suggest finding yourself a researcher, whom you trust enough to bring into your confidence in this matter. I'm absolutely positive the National Library has a fine collection of texts on the mystical world, should you search long enough."

"Maybe Donna?" CJ muttered, sharing a glance with Sam.

He shook his head. "She's busy enough keeping Josh afloat. She doesn't need extracurriculars. You should tell them about this stuff, though. Swear Josh to secrecy, of course, but they should know."

"I'll figure it out later. Mr. Giles, we've got to figure out what Zoey's part in all of this is." CJ rubbed at her temples. "We have to get her back. Now."

Giles shook his head. "Tomorrow night is the full moon. The majority of rituals involving blood — and, as Lindsay said from her dream, Zoey Bartlet was chosen for her bloodline — occur on the full moon or the new moon. We know they're here. We need to know what they're doing, or we could interrupt the ritual at the wrong time and kill everyone in the process. Now, I've got a few thoughts concerning their projected outcome, but I can not be sure until I've fully examined -"

"Damnit, tell me what you think they're doing to Zoey," CJ snapped. "The whole senior staff can't be missing tomorrow, with this! Walken's gonna notice if something's up, and where President Bartlet might overlook it if we give him the right excuse, Walken can't wait to tear this Democratic White House apart! If you're looking for evil, you should check out the Speaker of the House."

"As I said, I need more information, but..." He glanced back to Ms. Rosenberg, who was busy braiding Ms. De Vega's hair and laughing with Lindsay Simon. "I think they're attempting to create a new Hellmouth."

Sam shifted around in his seat to try and face Giles head on. "A what? That sounds... foreboding."

The British man gave a snort. "Foreboding is, perhaps, an adequate word for it. Hellmouth — it's what it sounds like, the mouth of Hell. It is a portal through which demons can access our plain. Heaven and Hell are real, Mr. Seaborn. Hellmouths are our proof."

Buffy glanced over again. "Sunnydale was a Hellmouth. When the city collapsed in the earthquake... well, the earthquake wasn't caused by the San Andreas Fault. It was caused by the Hellmouth being closed violently. It took the new Adrienne Vittadini store, too," she muttered.

CJ sighed, rubbing her face. "So if they make a Hellmouth here, in Bethseda, it lets demons loose on not just Maryland, but Capital Hill, the Pentagon, and the White House. Great... now, why Zoey?"

"Opening a Hellmouth requires, among other artifacts, the blood of a witch. A powerful one, preferably, and power tends to grow after generations," Giles offered. He gestured toward the back of the van. "Our own Willow would have the power necessary for the blood magics involved though, of course, the death of the witch is an outcome of the spell."

At that, Sam started laughing under his breath. "Oh, that's rich. Zoey? Practicing witchcraft? She's Catholic!"

Buffy and Giles exchanged glances. "Not practicing," Giles corrected. "The ability to touch magic is inherited. We need to trace her mother's bloodline to know for certain but since we know her family is ancient... I believe she's descended from a European witch and, therefore, is acceptable for the spell. She cannot harness her own powers due to lack of practice, but the vampires don't care. It resides within her blood."

"Bloodline." CJ snapped her fingers. "That's it. That's not a problem at all; Zoey was recently inducted into the Daughters of the Revolution. Her mother's bloodline is neatly mapped out in a book or a file somewhere. Will knows where, that was the day I put the olives in his pockets... Will. That's it, too! Will can be research-boy!"

"He needs to stop being bleeding-boy first," Sam commented. "Are you sure he'll be alright without medical help?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I've been dealing with this stuff for eight years." Climbing part way to her feet, she bared her neck to the rearview mirror. "See these? I've been bitten three times. These are from a vampire named Angel, these from one known as the Master, and these from — get this — Dracula. I'm still here, though."

"Good to know," Sam said, peering at the marks. "Did they hurt?"

Before she could respond, something thudded against the door of the van. On the driver's side, something tugged on the door. CJ jerked out of her chair and scooted toward the middle of the van while Buffy and Giles exchanged glances.

"Vampires?" Giles asked.

"Fraid so," Buffy responded. "I think we're sitting ducks."

+

"They should be nearby," Donna said. She straightened out the map again. "Er... the sign over there says this is the right cemetery. Shall we just follow around the outside, see if we can get the van?"

Josh shrugged. "It's your plan. I'm just the chauffeur." He made a comical sight — he was chewing on the end of a cheap wooden chopstick while crookedly wearing the yarmulke he'd been given for his bar mitzvah, still in excellent shape due to years of storage.

They hadn't had time to stop at Donna's apartment after pilfering a hundred chopsticks from Yan's Standard Chinese Take-out, so Josh — though confused by CJ's message — insisted that Donna wear the pendant his father had given him instead. The shape was unfamiliar against her skin but felt, somehow, comforting — however, whether it was because of the symbol's religious nature or the fact it belonged to Josh was debatable. 

Or not so debatable. She stared blankly at the map, no longer searching for the intersection as her mind wandered. Amy had asked flat out, and Donna had been cut off by a frantic call from Josh informing her of Zoey's disappearance. It was only a matter of time before Amy brought up the issue again, and Donna wasn't sure what her answer would be. Any answer and Amy would use it against her.

The car turned another corner and Josh let out a wordless cry of alarm. Donna glanced up to see a number of shadowed figures pounding on the windows and doors of Danny's van, which looked to be in terrible shape. "Oh God — Josh, what do we do?"

"She asked us to bring chopsticks, not the National Guard!" he blurted, the chopstick falling from his mouth and bouncing off the steering wheel. "Okay. Okay, we call the police. Where's my cell?"

Unfortunately, the headlights seemed to have caught the attention of the high school attackers. As Josh pulled the car over and lunged across Donna's lap toward the glove compartment — and his cell phone — she sat frozen with panic as about half of the attackers turned from the van to rush the car.

One of them seemed to have a crowbar. "Josh!" She pulled his head to her chest and buried her face against his neck, shielding his face with her arms, as the metal hit the windshield and shattered the glass into thousands of pieces. Donna could feel the pain blossoming across the backs of her hands and her knees, and didn't want to imagine what the impact of cutting glass had done to Josh's back.

Not more than a few seconds passed before the car rocked forward, and she glanced over the top of Josh's head only to catch sight of one of their attackers crawling up the front of the car toward them. If it was a high schooler, it had been in a hideous accident — it had teeth like a dog's and a face far from human. "Gotta get out, gotta get out!" she hissed to Josh, trying to ignore the gasps of pain from her boss. She shifted him out of the way, ignoring the blood — was it his? Hers? — and tugged desperately at the seatbelt release, eyes locked on the thing on the hood of the car.

Josh seemed to be reacting as well. He was shouting something incomprehensible. Donna got her seatbelt off first and grabbed for the door latch — but it was locked. And then it was too late, and the thing was reaching through the windshield. Josh must've still been restrained: it grabbed for Donna instead and pulled her right out of the car, never mind the damage the shards of glass still clinging to the windshield frame were doing to her legs. Shoving her against the hood of the car, it grabbed her hair and started pulling her shirt away from her neck — only to grab the Star of David as well.

The creature let out a tortured howl, smoke rising from the hand touching the symbol, and sent Donna flying toward the pavement. Pain — she caught herself with her arms and rolled a few times, knocking another of the creatures over as she went. She heard Josh shouting her name and, with the one she'd toppled reaching for her, knew just what she'd tell Amy.

If she ever saw the bitch again, that was.

+

It seemed Danny had been forward thinking enough to splurge for reinforced bulletproof windows. However, when tired squealed behind them and the banging of the crowbar against the van door stopped, CJ realized quickly that something big was going on. Then came the shattering glass. 

"Small car, two people inside — we've got six vamps abandoning us to attack them," Kennedy de Vega called from the back. "Shall we take the ones attacking us?"

Two in the car? "Oh, shit. Sam, that's Josh and Donna!" CJ didn't wait for Sam's expletive, though it followed. She smacked Mr. Giles' arm as hard as she could — he let out a gasp of pain — and demanded, "Stake! Now!"

It was Buffy who furnished the weapon and, while the rest dived for their own supplies and someone secured Will into the van, CJ crouched at her door. One of the vampires attacking the van had his back to the car door so, unlocking it as quietly as she could, CJ slammed the door into his back as she threw it open and launched herself into the fray, staking the vampire attempting to bash his way into the back of the van as she went. From the battle cries beginning behind her, Buffy and the others were doing some damage of their own.

She caught sight of a flash of blonde hair on the pavement in front of Josh's car, obstructed by a vampire with smoke rising from his hands. The cross necklace, then? It didn't hear her coming and she staked it from behind before it could do anything else. "Donna?" The dust cleared to show Donna's panicked face and a thick chain bearing a bulky Star of David pendant. "Wait — you're not Jewish."

"Shit," Donna said shortly, the swearing out of place coming from the naïve-seeming Wisconsonite. "CJ, what in God's name — that man just turned to dust -"

"I hope you brought chopsticks," CJ couldn't help but quip. She could sense the vampire stalking her from behind before Donna's eyes widened and spun around to kick him in the chest. He took a few steps back, giving CJ enough time to land a punch and knock him off balance before she staked him. "Is Josh still in the car?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder at Donna while the dust settled.

Donna nodded wordlessly and scrambled to her feet, seeming not to notice blood dripping from the cuts on her legs, while CJ turned to assess the situation. Josh had gotten his restraints off and was fighting off a single vampire that had broken the driver side window while CJ was occupied. The vampire had a firm grip on Josh's collar and the yarmulke — flopping around with every attempt at escape — didn't seem to be enough of a symbol to help.

The swiftest road seemed to be across the hood of the car, so that was the direction CJ leapt as Donna headed for the passenger door. CJ slid across the hood and landed on her feet, using her momentum to catch the arm of the vampire and send him flying further from the car. Josh's lapels gave a loud rip (followed by a cry of protest from the man himself, but CJ couldn't care less, as she was in the process of saving his life, not his wardrobe). She pressed the attack before the vampire regained its feet, kicking it in the side to get it back down. To one knee — then through the heart, and a pile of dust.

Commotion was followed by the noise of breathing. CJ climbed back to her feet and surveyed the site of the battle: no vampires remained standing, Sam had a stake in one hand, and Buffy was firmly placed in front of the door to the van, shielding the wounded. Donna and Josh seemed shaken and slightly banged up but alive. "They're okay," CJ called to Buffy, flinging open the drivers side door to access the pile of chopsticks she'd seen on her slide across the hood. "And they brought the motherload. Jesus, there must be a hundred packs of cheap wooden chopsticks. Nice job, Captain Amazing."

"We'll have to inform the police now. All this glass all around... how are we going to explain this?" Sam demanded.

"Gangs on PCP," Ms. Rosenberg replied shortly. "It worked for Sunnydale."

Sam moved to help Josh support Donna, who seemed a little unsteady from her impact on the cement. He stopped short and peered at his best friend. "Josh... are you wearing a yarmulke?"

Josh growled and threw a chopstick at him.


	5. Forging and Breaking

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine. Whedon and Sorkin's only.

Summary: The First Daughter is missing, California's collapsing, the Slayers are having dreams, the First Family is falling apart in the mix... and CJ broke her favorite mug. Can the Sunnydale crew keep the Bartlet administration afloat? 

A/N: And, after two grueling days believing my devilish computer had eaten my work... it has been recovered: both this, entire piece and a partially completed Buffy crossover with Harry Potter, which I am quite excited about. Praise the Disk Warrior program! And without further ado.... 

Chapter Five — Forging and Breaking

The metropolitan police were now on the lookout for a dozen teenagers wearing black masks who'd attacked two cars of stranded motorists outside of a cemetery, in addition to the constant search for President Bartlet's daughter. Bandaged and sated by Chinese food, the Sunnydale crew, the White House staffers, and Sam sat planning in Josh's small living room soon after dawn. Giles waved his chopsticks around to emphasize his point. "So, if we can use a spell to locate Zoey's whereabouts, we can attack before sunset, thereby keeping the vampires cornered in whatever dark reaches they've sequestered themselves."

"It sounds like it'll work, and you've got all the vampire killing knowledge and all... forgive me for asking, but how are we going to turn in Zoey without making ourselves appear to be vigilantes?" Josh asked. While he wasn't looking, Donna snagged one of his egg rolls. "We've got to be thinking about this stuff. You aren't in California anymore — you're in the District, and the media never sleeps."

"And Danny's gonna kill us for destroying his van," CJ muttered. Sam opened his mouth to speak, and CJ reached over to smack the back of his head. "Preemptive strike," she explained.

"I wasn't going to say anything dirty!" Sam protested. 

From CJ's expression, it was evident she didn't believe him. "Anyway. I know we've been awake for about a week straight — well, Josh, Donna and I have been up since the VP resigned — but things have to happen today. It's almost seven in the morning. I should show up at work for at least a few hours. I think Josh is clear for the day, especially if you call Leo and plead insanity or something. And Donna — if Josh isn't around, I'm sure Leo will let you skip, especially considering the state of your leg."

"I can't lie to Leo," Josh murmured. "CJ... he knows me better than anyone. He'll know."

"You should have today off anyway, if you really had an attack. Panic attacks like that cause serious problems to your body." CJ picked at her food, trying to ignore the hurt expression on Josh's face. "Besides, Zoey's life is on the line. I think lying to Leo is nothing compared to a few hours of sleep in order to save the President's daughter, who also happens to be a friend."

Donna shifted in her chair, grabbing her crutches to keep them from falling. Her left leg had been ripped open on the glass of Josh's windshield badly enough that she'd been put on an impressive amount of painkillers. Bustling around the halls of the West Wing wouldn't be an option for a while. "So how does this locator spell thing work? I don't know much — well, anything — about magic."

"Kennedy will be my anchor: basically, she sits there and makes sure I don't lose control. I cast a circle and then recite the location spell from a spellbook — actually, I have it memorized from using it so much. The spell requires a map, which will light up with the location of every demon in the area. Since so few frequent the District, it should be relatively easy to locate the group keeping Zoey Bartlet captive. They should be very near to the cemetery." Willow shrugged. "It's kid stuff. Just give me a map, twenty minutes, and a dark room and we'll have a location."

"Well, if they're near the cemetery... we could pretend we went back to the scene of the crime to find someone's cell phone and claim we heard yelling." Sam shrugged. "It's simple, but it could be the only way to keep from looking like vigilantes."

CJ shook her head. "Don't forget — we'll have taken out the vampires holding her captive, by then. The police will show up to find no one there."

"We'll decide on that course of action later," Giles put in. "At this moment, locating Zoey Bartlet and releasing her before the evening arrives is our highest priority. When do you plan to be at the White House tomorrow, Ms. Cregg?"

"I can probably get back here by two or three in the afternoon. Why? When are we leaving?"

Giles shook his head. "Not leaving. I'd suggest trying to be ready to attack the group by six or seven in the evening, while there's still light out. I was just hoping to continue your education as a Slayer; to bring you up to speed with what Lindsay and Kennedy have already learned. Slaying is instinctual, but acting like a Slayer is learned."

"Right," Josh said. "That's enough of that. I don't care. I'm gonna go call Leo, let him know about the high school gang excuse and tell him Donna and I won't be around today. You Sunnydale people — the third door on the right is a guest bedroom. You can all bunk in there?"

Willow nodded. "That sounds fine. Do you mind if Buffy just sleeps on your couch?"

Josh frowned. "Why?"

Willow pointed to where Buffy had dozed off while tending to the patient. "I think she and Mr. Bailey are out for a few hours. But hey, that's one less body in your room, too."

"Yeah," Josh drawled, glaring at the pair. "There better not be any funny business on my couch."

+

Dawn light was creeping between the blinds when Buffy jerked awake to find Will Bailey peering out the window. "Mm? What's going on? Where is everyone?" She rubbed at her eyes. "Damn, did they leave without me?"

Will shook his head and shushed her. "Check the clock. It's about 6:30 in the morning. Josh and CJ will probably be getting up in a half-hour or so. Your friends are in Josh's guest room."

"They didn't wake me up when they went in to bed," Buffy muttered. She supposed she shouldn't have been too surprised — after all, it had been only five days earlier that they'd kicked her out of the house. Caleb and the First had forced a quick forgiveness... but slights weren't forgotten, by any means. She pulled herself off the couch and crossed to fuss with the bandage around the White House staffer's neck. "How's this feeling? You need painkillers?"

He brushed her off. "I'm fine. Really. I just... I really got bitten by a vampire, didn't I."

It wasn't a question, but Buffy answered with a shrug anyway. "It gets easier to believe, as time goes by. You'll have a nice scar there. You can tell everyone a thug stabbed you with a pen, twice. That's what we told the doctors."

"A pen?" he scoffed. "It's a war wound. An illustration of my fight with purest evil."

She rolled her eyes. "Grabbed, bitten, passed out. You weren't fighting, you were food." Buffy plopped into a chair near his window vigil. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

Will shrugged and drew the curtains apart. Josh's apartment had a nice cityscape view, but it was nothing to write home about. "I miss palm trees," he admitted. "My sister was here helping me get settled in, but she's back in L.A. now. Somewhere out in that hellhole, Zoey Bartlet is being held captive by actual vampires, and even though all my coworkers know her and are in pain over her disappearance, I've only met her once, for five minutes at an Inaugural Ball. And last week, CJ, Josh, Toby, and Donna all went out for drinks after work and forgot to invite me." He shrugged. "I sound like a five-year-old, whining about being left out of the play group. Sorry. I just needed to get that off my chest. Not that you care."

"I know how you feel." When Will looked skeptical, she smacked his shoulder. "Hey, you don't have a monopoly on being an outsider. Two days before closing the Hellmouth at Sunnydale for good, I got thrown out of my own home by the people who accompanied me here — my best friends, not to mention my little sister. They didn't like my attitude." She shrugged. "Compared to that... I think I win."

Will snorted. "When did it become a competition? Hell... I don't belong here. This is Sam's job, not mine. Toby likes me, I guess. I think he's the only one... Josh and Donna and CJ all want Sam here. I think Leo keeps expecting me to react in a way Sam would. I'm just... just a fill for the spot, and I don't quite fit, you know?"

"Yeah. Like it's not a job you ever thought you'd hold, and one you never really wanted, but poof! It's like it's... it's fate, or something, dragging you down into it. And then it's your job and you're expected to do it, even if you'd rather run off to Mexico and drink margaritas with your boy. Girl. Whatever." Buffy shrugged. "I think they're expecting me to be the one to pull all the Slayers together and make something of them. I never wanted to be a teacher, though, and that's what I'd have to be."

"I wanted to write screenplays for Hollywood. I don't think I'm far off," Will said wryly. "What were you planning on doing?"

Buffy gave a faint smile. "Before I found out I was the Slayer? Well... I was fifteen when I was Called... but I think I wanted to be a rock star, or a cheerleader for the Lakers. Then I found out that the Slayer, when there was only one, was the one warrior for the Light in all the world and generally didn't live for more than two or three years. At that point, all I wanted to do was survive."

Will was silent for a long moment. "With however many superhero Slayers running around now... that means you have a choice. You could retire?"

A laugh. "I'd probably get antsy. I tried not slaying for a while, and it makes me bored. But to move to a less active area... get a real job, and a boyfriend, and watch my little sister go to high school without a fear of her dying in a horrible attack by vampires... maybe get married and have kids... It always seemed like too much to hope for." She met his gaze for a moment before examining the backs of her hands nervously. "I don't do relationships well. I've had three boyfriends — two are dead, and one ran off to South America, or something. The third, already an ex by that time, gave his life willingly so the rest of us could escape the Hellmouth. I told him I loved him... and he didn't believe me, and he died."

"I'm sorry." Will sighed. "It's not enough, but I am. Hey, are you — are you alright?"

Buffy was sniffling, rubbing at her cheeks with the heels of her hands. "I didn't mean — I haven't had a chance to really grieve yet, you know? I'm sorry, I'll try to hold off until we find Zoey Bartlet -"

"It's only worse if you hold the grief off until later," Will said knowingly. "Let it out." He held out his arms and she broke into tears and finally grieved for a man who'd loved her without question — the only one who stood by her side in the end.

+

"... and every state in the Union has issued Amber Alerts, generally used in the event of a minor being abducted or disappearing. Though Miss Bartlet is an adult, it is felt that the Amber Alert will allow the Administration to reach as many people as possible. Now, then... the Secret Service has revised the estimated time of the kidnapping to a ten minute window from the moment Miss Bartlet was observed entering the women's restroom to the moment her agents realized she was no longer in the building. The exact window will be released at the next briefing — the police and secret service are working together to compute the furthest distance a car could reach during that period of time to coordinate search procedures." CJ shuffled her cards, making sure she'd hit every point. "Alright, then, I've got a few moments for questions."

As expected, the reporters burst into a roar of "CJ! CJ! Over here!"

"Mark," she called, pointing.

He nodded. "CJ, we have unconfirmed reports that more than one ransom note has been received. Can you comment on the validity of any of the notes?"

CJ risked a glance to Leo standing at the back of the room, who nodded. "We've received a total of six notes at last count. I'd like to note right here that, in high-profile abductions like this one, multiple ransom notes are often received from a variety of terrorist organizations, each wishing to claim the attack as their own. At this time, the White House cannot comment on the source of any note, as the Secret Service, the CIA, and the FBI are researching the validity of each. Next question — Louise."

"CJ, the Times has received intelligence suggesting that President Walken has deployed a task force of aircraft carriers to the waters just outside of Qumari control. Will the White House comment?"

From the look in Leo's eyes, CJ knew it was the truth — but one they'd been hoping to keep from the public. However, she hadn't been told a thing. It was likely the doing of the sexist, sizist Republican that she'd been denied access to the information... but it stung, and couldn't be shown to the reporters, or they'd jump like a pack of rabid dogs. She would rather face an army of vampires, she mused. "I'm afraid I can't comment, Louise. One more question — Danny?"

She was hoping he'd say something slightly light hearted to end the press briefing on a high note. "CJ, did you total my van?"

CJ froze. Leo froze. Danny grinned maliciously, as the pressroom went from eerily silent to bustling with demands for information. That bastard — he'd gotten his revenge for agreeing to withhold the Shareef story at last. "That has nothing to do with White House goings on — but for your information, yes, Danny, your van's smashed to bits. It stalled in Maryland, and we were jumped. Deputy Chief of Staff Josh Lyman and his senior assistant, Donna Moss, came to jump the van with Josh's car. I'm fine, just a little shaken. Of those involved in the incident, Donna Moss and the Deputy Communications Director, Will Bailey, received minor injuries. Both will be back at work here shortly. Don't forget to ask Will where he got his lovely scars; I'm sure he'll be just dying to answer. And Danny — we need to chat. Alright, that's a full lid. I'm going home for the afternoon and Carol will handle the evening briefing."

She charged off the podium and pulled Leo aside before Danny could catch up, using her significant Slayer strength to make sure the Chief of Staff followed her into a secured room. "Alright, spill. What's Walken up to?"

"CJ — you weren't here. I don't like the man, but he's doing the best he can with the information we have." Leo brushed off her grip and adjusted his suit. "Besides, you were sitting in the police station when the decision was made."

"But we don't know who did this!" CJ blurted. "I don't think it was the Qumari government! This is a mistake!"

Leo shook his head. "CJ... it's most likely payback for Shareef. The CIA thinks that, of the six notes, the Qumari group and those wackos from Louisiana are the most likely to have pulled it off. If we don't find her soon..."

"We'll find her, Leo," CJ promised, ignoring his skeptical eyebrow-raise. "We're going to find her, and Walken will back up, and President Bartlet will be reinstated. And things will go back to normal... you can meet the women who escaped the earthquake in Southern California; they were here for a competition that got cancelled. We'll have her back."

He looked at least thirty years older than the afternoon of Commencement, when she'd teased him about the gift he'd chosen for his goddaughter's graduation; a pen. "If we don't find her, he's going to take back the Presidency just long enough to appoint a Vice President. Then he'll resign for good," Leo muttered. "Don't spread it around, CJ — but this is what we're working with. Whoever did this didn't cripple the country. They crippled a single family."

"She'll be back. I have a feeling," CJ assured him. "She'll be back and we'll have a President." 

+

Toby and Danny were both waiting in her office when she returned from speaking to Leo, perched on opposite ends of her couch and glaring at each other through slitted lids. In unison, they jumped to their feet as she entered. "CJ? Are you alright?" Toby demanded, while Danny shouted, "How the hell did a bunch of high schoolers total a bullet-proof van?"

CJ snorted and rounded her desk, tossing her notes down and taking a seat. "I'm just fine, Tobus, but stay right there. Danny? Don't you have insurance?"

"Plenty, but I doubt it covers high school hoodlums. And how did the thing break down? I just had it inspected!" he groused. Toby took a seat again, while Danny paced up to the desk and leaned forward over it. "C'mon, CJ. High schoolers?"

CJ gave her best press secretary smile. "The police think they were on PCP. Several of them had crowbars... trust me, your van's in better shape than Josh's car. Josh and Donna were nearly killed."

Danny's eyes narrowed. "Then how the hell did you scare them off? How many were there? Why did they attack while you were all inside the van?"

"I don't know how we scared them off — you know me, I'm just a tall, scary woman," CJ deadpanned. "There were about a dozen of them, and I suppose the van seemed like an easy target. We weren't exactly in the middle of a well-lighted area when your van gave out. Here -" she dug through her desk and pulled out a slip of paper. "This is where your van is. If your insurance doesn't cover, I'll pay for it. Alright? Now get out of my office."

Danny paused, as if readying himself for another question, before giving CJ a look, one that silently screamed, "I'm not done with this yet." Then, he turned on his heel and stormed out, pausing only long enough to acknowledge the Band-Aids on Carol's face before he was gone.

"He's cheerful," CJ noted dully, looking back to her notes. "Now then — how's the kids, Papa Pokey?"

Toby grimaced. "Huck spit up on me. It was a learning experience. CJ — are you sure you should be in today? Yesterday was a traumatic day for you, and I'm just thinking maybe a rest should be in order -"

It was all CJ could do to calm herself enough to not snap the pen in her hands clear in half. "Toby, I'm fine. Now drop it." She put down the pen to resist temptation. "Now then — have you talked that girl into marrying you yet? And... have you thought about whether or not you really _want_ to remarry her? Are you doing this out of some chivalric sense of right and wrong? Because Andi can do just fine on her own, and you'll always be there for them."

Though appearing troubled by the change of topic, Toby answered anyway, averting his eyes the way he always did when sharing something personal. "I want to be there to read them a bedtime story. I want to be there when they wake up at midnight, and 2 am, and 5 am. I want to feed them baby food and end up with it stuck in my beard. I don't want to miss a minute of them laughing, or rolling over, or sitting up. I can't do that if they don't live in my home, and I can't have them living in my home if I'm not married to their mother." His eyes flickered over to meet hers for a brief moment. "They're my kids, CJ. They're my kids every moment of every day, not just on weekends or for two months in the summer, or whenever the court says I can have them, if and when Andi marries somebody else."

CJ nodded. "That's answer enough to me. So... why don't you tell her that?"

"What?" Toby blanched at the mere thought. "I couldn't. I just — maybe — I've barely gotten the chance to spend any time with her since they were born."

"You've been here," CJ stated. "When this is all over and Zoey's home, I think you should take some family leave. You should cherish this time."

"I will," Toby promised. "I've got to be here until then, though. I think I'm the only one brave enough to go within ten feet of the Big Man. And that includes Leo — he's spending most of his time in the Residence."

CJ winced. "How are the President and the First Lady doing? Mrs. Bartlet tried to get into the press room yesterday early morning — to make a statement, beg for Zoey to be brought home — but Amy and I stopped her."

"Charlie's with them. Amy's in there, too, though she's probably not the best choice of confidante for the First Lady." Toby sighed. "The President asked to be sedated last night. I haven't heard since... CJ, is there any way Donna could get in here to be with the First Lady?"

"She's on crutches, at Josh's, with Sam and his guests. And Will, too, I think. Will's probably still sleeping off blood loss." CJ shrugged. "If someone sends a car around... but she might still be in a lot of pain. The guy climbed right up on the hood of Josh's car, destroyed the windshield with a crowbar, and dragged Donna out through the broken glass. I didn't catch much of it until I got out of my car... but I'm surprised she's even got a leg left."

Toby gave a deep sigh and nodded. "Alright, then. I'll leave her be... and Will's alright? The police report on my desk said he was stabbed twice in the neck... with a pen?"

"In this case, the pen _is_ mightier than the sword," CJ smirked, anticipating Toby's snort of exasperation. "But yeah. We got out of the car to help Donna and Josh. One of the guys grabbed him. Buffy — the martial arts coach from the quake epicenter — managed to take out the guy. Several of the other group leaders and a champion student were there, too, as Sam's guests. I suppose their presence scared off the gang." 

"Give them my thanks," Toby said. "I wouldn't want to be searching for yet another deputy. Will's been doing a fair job."

"I miss Sam," CJ countered. She grabbed up her purse and checked the clock. 4:30 p.m. — the group should be spread out over the city by now, gathering what was needed for the spell and the end of the fight. "Walk me to my car, Pokey? Why don't we go over and see if Leo will let you out for the rest of the evening... your kids need you..."

Toby waved her off. "I'll do that. Why don't I meet up with the lot of you later at Josh's? Andi's not being released until tomorrow."

"Josh's?" CJ froze. Would telling Toby be the right course of action? "Um — it's kinda full there, with the sickies and the California guests bunking."

He was halfway out the door, and it was too late. "I'll just stop by to check on Will!" he called back.

"Crap," CJ muttered. She was tempted to follow — but at that moment, her cell phone rang. "CJ Cregg," she answered.

"It's Sam," came the voice on the other end. "Willow, Kennedy, Giles, and I are at Donna's place, though Donna's sleeping off her pain meds at Josh's still. There's more space here and her roommate's away for a while. Josh took Lindsay to go find weapons of some sort. They took the subway and said they'd meet you at the Home Depot in Alexandria, since Josh's car is totaled. Will was complaining of dizziness when we left Josh's place; Buffy offered to take him back to his place, but she doesn't know the roads. Oh, and can you stop at the grocery, too? Willow needs, umm... Rosemary? And Donna's all out of milk."

Reduced to drudgery. "Fine. Rosemary and milk. I'll meet them there," CJ grumbled. "Why don't I pick up some Chinese while I'm at it?"

Sam didn't seem to catch her sarcasm. "Ooh, that sounds nice. And some more chopsticks, while you're at it? Who knows how many vampires we'll have to dust tonight?"

Toby was going to Josh's. It sounded as if he'd be missing all the fun.


	6. Battle Ready

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine. Whedon and Sorkin's only.

Summary: The First Daughter is missing, California's collapsing, the Slayers are having dreams, the First Family is falling apart in the mix... and CJ broke her favorite mug. Can the Sunnydale crew keep the Bartlet administration afloat? 

A/N: (A late) Happy Fourth to all Americans reading this... and if you're not an American... you may not celebrate on July Fourth, but it's on your stinkin' calender — and yours doesn't give you whistling firecrackers that sound like sirens on an ambulance, so be thankful for small favours. As a patriotic treat, chapter six:

Chapter Six — Battle Ready

While CJ scoured the city for rosemary and Josh searched high and low for stake-sized chunks of wood (as well as weaponry shops offering swords and crossbows), Toby was let into Josh's building by the security guard who recognized him on sight and jogged up the stairs, eager to check on his friends before heading over to the hospital to see his family. At first, after letting himself into the unlocked apartment, he was afraid he'd barged into the wrong place. Though the surroundings appeared familiar, there was an unidentifiable couple twined in a compromising position on the couch though, thank the Lord for small favors, they seemed mostly clothed. 

For one terrifying moment, Toby thought it was Josh and Donna there, a veritable press nightmare waiting to happen. Then, the couple pulled apart — and Toby couldn't quite decide if this was worse. "Will?" he spluttered, taken aback as his deputy and some unknown blonde woman set about righting articles of clothing. "What the hell? CJ said you were injured!"

Will, for his matter, had turned a rich shade of red. With Toby's demand, he grabbed at a large Band-Aid stuck to the side of his throat. "I am!" he protested. "I just — it's been a really confusing — I mean, I'm not — Toby, this is Buffy Summers, from Sunnydale, California. Buffy, this is Toby Ziegler. My boss."

The buttons on the girl's shirt were one off. "Erm — it's nice to meet you, Mr. Ziegler. Everyone around here seems to be talking about you. How are your kids?"

"Fine," Toby muttered cautiously. She seemed nice enough, but what kind of deranged parents named their child Buffy? (For that matter, what deranged parents named their kid Huck?) "Er... where's Donna?"

Will gestured down a hall. "She woke for a half hour early this morning to take more pain pills before passing out again. The glass did a number on her leg."

"Right. Right, just stopped by to... well, obviously you're alright. Uh.. where's CJ?" Toby frowned. "Not to mention Josh, Sam, and whomever else is around here."

"On some errands," Buffy offered. "I've got some first aid training, what with the coaching, so I'm here to... make sure no one springs a leak." She gave a strained laugh. "Right, I'm going to — I'll just be right back." She jumped to her feet and scurried in the direction of the bathroom.

Toby crossed to the couch in seconds and glared at his subordinate. "If you're up to necking, shouldn't you be at work?"

"I'm in tomorrow," Will promised. "I'm on injury leave." He peeled the bandage back to show off two rather large bruises, spaced just close enough to resemble a dog bite. "See? I lost a ton of blood."

"Women like to play nursemaid, I think," Toby stated. "Don't get your hopes up — she's too young for you."

Will snorted. "Six year difference. That's far closer in age than my dad and stepmother. Now... go away. I don't know when the others will be back. They're at Donna's." He shut his mouth, eyes widening as if he wasn't supposed to say anything. "Erm... don't go over there, Toby."

"Why not? Hiding something from me?" he demanded. He noticed Buffy coming back out of the bathroom, out of the corner of his eye, her blouse buttons corrected. "CJ was acting suspicious too. What's going on?"   


"We're just — I'm not supposed to — It's a simple — please, don't make me -"

Buffy took a seat on the arm of the couch. "He's promised not to say anything, but they're having a Father's Day party for you, a little early. Once Miss Bartlet's been recovered, of course. Now, when the day comes, would you act surprised and pretend Will was a good boy?"

Will looked stricken, and Toby felt an odd sense of... pride. He didn't like parties, but... "Make sure there's beer," he commanded Will. "I'm gonna go see my kids." The rest would take care of itself.

+

After Toby left, Buffy sunk down onto the couch next to a blushing Will. "Well, that was bad timing," she noted simply.

Will buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry. Toby usually knocks at my place. And — I'm also sorry — I didn't mean to push you into anything and I'm afraid I have, since by your own admission, you're grieving for someone you loved -"

A rough punch to the shoulder shut the speechwriter up. "There was very little pushing going on. Do you think I wouldn't have thrown you across the room if I wasn't good with the thing? Slayer here? Right?"

"I'm sorry," Will said again. "I won't do anything. I mean, we should be thinking about rescuing Zoey and everything."

"They abandoned us," Buffy pointed out.

"They're a team," Will countered, voice sounding oddly dull.

Buffy grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. His were sad, downcast. "You're part of that team. Why did you make that story up about feeling dizzy?"

Will blushed. "You knew?"

"Of course." Buffy let out a snort. "You didn't lose that much blood. Do you really feel that left out by the group of them? ... Why don't you say something?"

"They've all got four years of comradery behind them. With Sam back here... They just click, the whole lot of them. I'm a third wheel. The odd man out. A fifth for foursquare. A romance novel in the economics section. A... weed among roses." Will's list of metaphors seemed unending.

"A vampire with a soul?" Buffy muttered, half to herself.

The information distracted Will. "But I thought Giles was saying that vampires don't have souls."

"They don't. I've only ever met two. The first... he was cursed with it by a group of gypsies who wanted him to feel guilt over the murders he'd committed." She smiled sadly, voice going softer. "The second went on a journey thing and got his soul back because he wanted to be able to feel guilt over something he'd done in particular."

Will peered at her closely. "Something he'd done to you," he picked up.

Buffy nodded shortly. "He was the one who died, when the Hellmouth closed. He was about a hundred and fifty years old. He gave it all up... because of me."

There was a long, comfortable pause before Will felt ready to speak again. "We're a bunch of killjoys, aren't we," he murmured, shaking his head.

"I guess. We don't have to be, though. I mean... I can't promise anything that'll mean — well, anything. I'm rebound girl after all. But we're both pretty lonely, it'll be a good hour or more before the others show up, and Ms. Moss is out cold." She ran her fingers around to the nape of his neck, running them through the tangle of sweat-drenched short hairs there. He shivered under her touch.

"You're absolutely sure this is a good idea?" he put in.

Buffy shrugged. "I'm not known for my good ideas. I just go with my heart."

+

The spell hadn't been powerful enough to knock them flat, but Willow had picked up a sort of heavenly glow, which was slowly fading. She smiled and bent over to take a closer look at the glowing dots covering the map of D.C. and the surrounding area. "There sure are a lot of them, Giles," she murmured.

Giles frowned. "More than there were supposed to be. But... there are three clusters. Here, here, and here," he said, pointing. "What are these places?" he demanded of the closest White House employee, who just happened to be Sam.

"That's the graveyard we were at," Sam said. "That's Georgetown University. And that's... that's the White House."

Josh crouched at Willow's side. "What do the lights mean again?"

"Each is a separate demon," she said, pursing her lips. "Er... is there any reason a horde of demons might be in the White House?"

Josh and Sam exchanged glances. "Well, I always thought Walken was up to something," Josh muttered.

Sam gave a nervous laugh. "Right. Walken, demon. Funny. Um... guys, the sun's gonna go down, and Zoey's going to die."

"We were near their hiding place when we were ambushed," Willow said, trying to get back on topic. "It must be a crypt. I can do a tracking spell or something, once we get there. Ms. Cregg? Do we have transportation?"

"My car," she said. "Donna's and Will's. Weapons?"

Josh dragged his bags over and pulled out a number of sharpened wooden dowels. "Thank God for Home Depot," he grinned. From another bag he grabbed several short swords. "There's a cutlery place in the Alexandria mall, the one closest to Home Depot," he explained as he passed them out. "I'd have gotten full swords, but they require more checks, and more money, and I didn't want to be caught coming out of a weapons store by the press."

"I'd skin you," CJ muttered, checking the balance of the new weapon on her hand. "It's not a bad knife though. Well, I think."

"Save one for Will and Buffy," Willow commanded. "I think Donna should stay behind. You know, injury and all."

"I think Will could use a neck guard," Josh joked. "Or maybe a helmet with a throat protector."

"Thirty vampires or so, I'm counting," Giles put in, taking a knife of his own. "We haven't much time. The spell in question requires thirty five."

CJ nodded. "And we know this is the right spell?"

"She's direct descendant of one of the Salem witches," Willow put in. "She's the one they'd take. She's powerful, I can feel it. I'll probably smell it, too."

"Let's rock and roll," Kennedy muttered. "Get the backup and save the day."

+

"CJ?" Abbey Bartlet opened the door of the press secretary's office and poked her head in, ignoring the secret service agents standing just down the hall. The woman in question was not present, not even sleeping on the couch. "Claudia Jean Cregg?" Abbey demanded, as though such a command would cause the woman to appear.

It didn't work, of course. Abbey took a few steps into the office and caught sight of the darkening sky outside the window. She crossed and stood there, in the oranges and pinks and purples of the sunset.

It was too beautiful for words, and too beautiful when her daughter was tied up, or being tortured, or dead. Time was passing, and with every moment the possibility that her daughter would be found alive diminished. 

Abbey turned, intending to return to the Residence, when she caught sight of a list sitting on the press secretary's desk; a very familiar list with one name circled in a bright red ink. Eyes narrowing, she grabbed up the paper. Elizabeth Mercy Stanton, the paragraph read, known as one of the dozens of women murdered in Massachusetts for witchcraft. Her whole story was there, but Abbey didn't bother to give it another glance — she knew it by heart. Elizabeth Mercy Stanton was her many-greats grandmother.

There was a note beside the circle, reading simply "Bingo! Call Giles!" in what could only be Will Bailey's handwriting. A whole stack of papers sat in a folder there, with the entirety of her family tree included.

Not Jed's. Hers. What could possibly be so important about her history? Were those damned Daughters of the Revolution giving more problems about her membership? Elizabeth Mercy Stanton couldn't be it — could she? A woman supposedly a witch? And why would they be bothering CJ now, amid tragic circumstances? Abbey gave a snort and chucked the papers back where they'd been lying, and looked up only to give a yelp of surprise.

"Pardon me, Mrs. Bartlet. I was just trying to find Ms. Cregg." Of all the people to be lurking around in the evening... President' Glen Walken took up the entire doorway with his bulk.

"Well, she's gone home, I guess. Damn good time for it," Abbey muttered. "What do you want with her?"

Lord above, he actually looked sheepish. "Just an apology. I said some things... well, I was intending to joke, but her assistant informed me I'd stepped over the line a bit. Then she got in that incident -"

"Incident?" Abbey demanded. Dozens of scenarios filled her mind.

Walken shook his head. "Pardon, you wouldn't have heard. She was picking someone up at the airport and the car died. A gang attacked. Everyone's alright, though. She was back in here today, plugging away with the press... I really should let her know she did an admirable job today. When things are like this..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Ma'am, how are you doin'? How's President Bartlet?"

"The best that can be expected." She turned to look out at the sunset, sighing tiredly. "I dream about her, now. Sometimes I see her in some crazy's basement. Sometimes... I should go back, before Jed worries."

The acting president crossed the room to stand beside her at the window. "We won't ever be friends, ma'am, but when times are like this, it's our job to band together against evil. Yes, someday I'd like to run for this job m'self... but I pray more than anything for your daughter to be recovered and for your husband to take his place again. We are not enemies, Mrs. Bartlet, not now. Not ever. We're all Americans."

"All Americans," Abbey repeated. Somehow that was calming... except for the nagging feeling in the back of her mind, the feeling that drove her to fight for what she thought was right — the feeling that warned her that it was an American behind the whole thing.

She didn't bring up her worries, and Walken didn't speak again. They stood in silence as the sun dipped behind the horizon.

A/N: See? Not quite so evil a Republican. Take that as you may ;). Don't forget to be a responsible reader and leave a review!


	7. American Heroes

Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine. Whedon and Sorkin's only.

Summary: The First Daughter is missing, California's collapsing, the Slayers are having dreams, the First Family is falling apart in the mix... and CJ broke her favorite mug. Can the Sunnydale crew keep the Bartlet administration afloat? 

A/N: Well, this is the end of this. For now. I am intending to write a second part to this series; it may take a bit, as I don't post until I've finished writing... but don't worry, the Capital Slayeretts will return. For now, enjoy chapter seven and the epilogue J 

Chapter Seven — American Heroes (with a side of British Bravery)

The sun was setting in a glorious display as the three cars arrived outside the cemetery. Giles waved the group over, tutting softly. "We're late. This is bad. If we're not careful, the culprits may escape us."

The newest Slayer waved her stake around. "We'll kick their butts! Then... then, we can go out to a bar somewhere... cept you, Lindsay, sorry about that."

"I've yet to see the infamous Jackal," Mr. Bailey piped up. "Toby's told me all about it."

"I'll Jackal until dawn!" CJ poked her stake around and gave a cackle, which stopped abruptly as Mr. Lyman elbowed her in the ribs. 

"Let's get this done with?" Kennedy muttered. "Wills, how many are we up against?"

Willow shrugged. "35, easily. Minions mostly, I think, but there could be a Master organizing the plot."

"Well, can't let the vamps drain Congress dry," CJ replied, "though I could direct them toward a few choice morsels."

Buffy rolled her eyes at her Watcher and set off across the cemetery. Mr. Bailey tagged along immediately, Giles noticed, while the others charged after them. Mr. Lyman caught up to him quickly. "Say... have you prevented Hellmouths being opened before?"

"No," Giles admitted, "though I've helped to prevent several apocalypses. Apocali? I never could quite figure out what the plural is..."

"Don't look at me," Mr. Lyman muttered. "Just don't tell Donna I didn't know."

Mr. Seaborn coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "760 verbal?"

"Shut up," Buffy hissed, gesturing for her backup to take up position behind her. They'd reached an ornate tomb, inscribed with the Hamilton family name and crest, and a faint light could be seen through cracks around the door. Buffy gestured to CJ. "Do the honors?"

CJ grinned and strode to the door, pausing only momentarily before kicking it in. Shouts started immediately, as the faint light of dusk filtered into the room. Buffy and the other Slayers charged in first, followed by the armed backup. Giles, last, stood in the doorway to keep any from escaping.

It was a slaughter. Giles watched the newest Slayer in particular; despite being a good twenty years older than Buffy, CJ was as quick on her feet as the younger woman. She matched Buffy kill for kill, making her way toward the pentacle outlined on the floor, as she'd been instructed.

Willow and Kennedy fought in tandem with Mr. Seaborn, the politician watching their back in a seamless display of teamwork. Lindsay seemed focused on protecting the cocky Mr. Lyman from his own risky actions, while Buffy found a way to both move forward into the fray and protect Will Bailey from foes.

Giles was distracted by a pair of vampires trying to escape into the encroaching darkness. Striking with his foot, he swept the first's legs from under him and staked him on the way down, before yanking the second forward by snagging her shirtsleeve and impaling her easily onto the stake. 

He looked up again to note that Buffy had reached the bound victim first. She knelt and pulled her dagger from her belt, starting to cut the ropes keeping Zoey Bartlet restrained. The girl started sobbing almost immediately.

The dark figure stayed in the shadows until Buffy was distracted, and Giles didn't have time to shout a warning before it latched onto the girl's arms. Buffy headbutted the vampire, but it didn't back down. Miss Bartlet's screams grew louder as she was dragged from her savior. Unmindful of the possibility of escaping minions, Giles charged across the crypt in time to hear the vampire's comebacks.

"You stop the ceremony, but you will not keep the girl alive!" He was backing up slowly, toward what must've been a back exit. Giles saw a brief flash of silver but then it was gone, before he could identify it.

"We'll track you down!" Buffy promised. "You can't run — there's nowhere to hide in a city of so few demons!"

The vampire laughed, still backing up. "So few? Our numbers grow! The Master of the city is powerful — mark my words, Slayer, this place will be your grave!"

He looked as though he planned to continue speaking, dragging a gagging Bartlet by her neck... until he suddenly exploded in a shower of dust, revealing the bedraggled figure of Will Bailey. Zoey Bartlet gasped for air and Mr. Bailey knelt next to her. "Zoey? Are you alright?"

"Jean Paul drugged my drink!" she sobbed, grabbing Bailey's sleeve. "I went over to the bathroom, I was going to tell one of the Secret Service agents, when a guy in the exit grabbed me! Vampires, Will, they exist!"

And then CJ was there, helping the girl to her feet. "Two days ago, that would've surprised me," she murmured. "Sorry, Zo. There's not much that can phaze me anymore."

Mr. Lyman and Mr. Seaborn closed in to assure themselves of Miss Bartlet's safety before Mr. Lyman spoke up. "We need an alibi, Zoey. You can't tell the police we barged in here and killed a bunch of vampires..."

She'd quieted down as she rubbed her bruised wrists. "I never saw my captors' faces. They had American accents. I... I managed to get away when they were out scrounging food? There were — there were only two of them, the one guarding me was asleep. Is that okay? Can I go home?"

CJ slung her arm over Zoey's shoulders and led her out of the crypt, the girl heavily favoring her right leg. "Of course you can, Zoey. We... we came back to search for Josh's cell phone and found you wandering next to the road. Okay? That's the story?" She turned to Mr. Seaborn. "Call the Secret Service, let them know we've got her. Stick to the story, Spanky."

"They were vampires," Zoey whispered, just audibly enough for Giles to overhear. "They were vampires, and they called me a witch... this wasn't their only plan, CJ, they had other things... I can't remember... The House, they were going to..." She sagged a bit, clutching at her left side, and CJ swept her up into her arms to carry the girl instead.

"Don't worry about it. We've got your back," CJ replied.

+

Buffy hung back from the group as CJ swept the girl up into a carry and moved off. Will and Giles simultaneously noticed her absence, as both turned from the celebrating group. "What is it?" Will asked. "Aren't we done? We found Zoey."

Giles narrowed his eyes, and Buffy gave a slight shrug. "Spidey sense tingling."

Will raised an eyebrow. "What? Spidey sense?"

"Obviously not a proper nerd," Buffy grinned, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder. "No comic books?"

"I grew up in Brussels," he snapped back.

Giles started cleaning his glasses, a sure sign of exasperation. "Alright, then, is play time done? Buffy... what hasn't yet been completed?"

"I'm not good with the magick-y stuff... but what happens when the spell's not completed? And what happens when the police find honest-to-goodness magic implements in there? Can they accidentally set something off? Is there a boom coming?" She turned halfway to the crypt. "Willow said there were more demony dots on the map than there should've been."

"Yeah, she was saying that," Will put in. "How many more is more?" he demanded of the Watcher.

"Please, don't make a scene in front of the President's daughter," Giles began, "I don't think she should be involved in the supernatural any more than she's been thus far... but your answer is several thousand. Last I'd heard, Washington D.C. boasted fewer than two hundred demons and vampires — including all of the surrounding cities in that, of course. Now... what could bring five thousand to the area? The promise of a new Hellmouth may've been enough for... for a few hundred..."

Will waved his stake around in what he seemed to intend as a threatening manner — Buffy tried not to giggle. "We can take five thousand!" he proclaimed. "We slaughtered em tonight!"

Giles shot a disapproving look to the Slayer before answering. "Were they all minions... Mr. Bailey, what you fought tonight were the lowest of the pecking order. The older a vampire becomes, the more power he gains, the more experience. Minions are cocky — masters know the adage to fight another day,' and remember it. Many a Slayer has fallen to a forgotten enemy."

"Demons, too," Buffy put in. "The map-y thing doesn't differentiate. Some of the shinies were plain old demons, and they can be pretty nasty on their own. I don't think CJ could take one alone right now."

"Five thousand potentially dangerous adversaries," Will muttered. "From an air force standpoint, it sounds like so few..."

"... except that these soldiers don't fear death in the same manner as ourselves. They are ruthless. They have seen Hell firsthand, often. To a vampire an unarmed human is... is..." Buffy sighed and shook her head, giving a sad expression. "A happy meal on legs, somebody told me once. We can't forget that to them, we're food. It's a different battle."

Giles gestured to Willow, who had stopped just up ahead with the rest of the group. "We're staying to clean up the ritual paraphernalia. Anything harmless will be left for the press," he called. "Go on ahead, and get Miss Bartlet to the hospital."

Will pulled out his keys and jingled them. "We've got my car. Donna's and CJ's are big enough." The others gave a wave and no response. He turned to Buffy and muttered under his breath, "Not even a good-bye. And you're trying to convince me they see me as a team member?"

"Cleanup," Giles put in, cutting off any reply Buffy might've made, "must proceed delicately, when magic is involved."

She nodded and headed back into the crypt, moving straight for the pentacle in the middle of the floor. Something felt wrong, still... she couldn't explain it, more than to refer back to her good old Slayer Sense, but the work seemed... unfinished, somehow.

And then a glistening of red caught her eye. Her breath stalled in her throat. "Giles?" she choked out. She cleared her throat, as her mentor came running. "Giles — blood — Zoey's bleeding -" Her mind's eye saw not the pool of blood on the floor, but the frightened eyes of her sister as she stood bound and suspended above a widening portal. "It's the blood. It's always the blood -"

Giles was up and running as Buffy's attention remained locked on the slowly rippling pool. Somehow, magically, it seemed to be growing, moving. It was a perfect circle, and the center raised into a star. It grew, and the star surrounded the impression of an animal head — a goat, a ram, something Buffy's suburban upbringing couldn't recognize, except for its familiarity. Only a few days before, the blood of Slayers opened an identical, if metal, seal.

She didn't know what Giles was planning, but when the blood started to shimmer silver and thicken, she darted toward the door. "Stop the blood!" she screamed, hoping Willow was close enough to hear. "She's opening the Hellmouth!"

+

CJ shifted the dead weight in her arms, focused only on getting her President's daughter back home. She wouldn't have noticed the wetness, except for the slickness it created on her fingers and the yells coming from behind her. "Wait," Ms. Rosenberg was saying, "Giles is calling..."

She never caught his words, as she realized what was happening. "Josh," she whispered desperately, "help!" And her friend was there to help as she lowered Zoey to the ground. CJ's hands were wet with blood.

"Oh, God," Sam murmured from somewhere behind CJ. It looked bad — there was a lot of blood, and Zoey had stopped responding. Josh was shaking the First Daughter's shoulder desperately.

CJ pushed aside the layered camisoles the girl was wearing to get a better look at her left side, Kennedy De Vega hanging over her shoulder. "It looks like it was a clean slice. She must've been slashed when the head groupie was dragging her around," De Vega pointed out. "Did moving her make it worse? It shouldn't be life threatening... she's bleeding more than she should..."

Suddenly, Buffy's shrieks came echoing across the graveyard, and Rosenberg shoved CJ aside. "Opening the Hellmouth?" CJ demanded. "How? They're dead!"

"It's magic," Willow snapped, before muttering an unfamiliar phrase under her breath and taking a closer look at the wound. "Damn, damn, damn... whatever she was cut with, it's keeping the blood from clotting and cutting deeper at the same time. I don't know what spell it is — I don't know how to stop it -"

She was cut off as the earth trembled beneath their feet. Sam, who'd sunk to a crouch at Josh's side, went toppling to the side, pushing CJ down in the process. Lindsay shrieked and threw her arms around De Vega, and Rosenberg shielded Zoey's body with her own, until the tremors ended. "We have to stop the bleeding!" Rosenberg moaned desperately. "I think the Hellmouth's already been created here! I — somebody, can I have a coat? An overshirt? I've got to stop the blood flow!"

Josh pulled off his flannel shirt immediately, and handed it over, so that Rosenberg could put pressure upon the wound. "We should get an ambulance," he whispered. "I know there are things we don't want the police to find... but she'll die without an ambulance..."

"I just have to stop the bleeding," Rosenberg snapped. However, her best efforts didn't seem to be enough — Zoey's blood was flowing more freely, and had begun soaking through Josh's shirt.

"It's a magical wound," De Vega put in. "Don't you need magic to close it?"

Rosenberg winced and pressed harder on the wound. "Yeah. I think I do... but most of the spells I know require two witches to perform it... all you Slayers aren't a bit of help right now!"

CJ and Josh locked eyes, Josh putting to words their identical line of thought. "Two witches, Willow? Two conscious witches?"

She looked confused. "Well, I can draw the extra power from an unconscious witch, I guess. It's easier if both do the incantation, but all that's really needed is the power... why...?"

"Is Zoey a witch, or isn't she?" CJ snapped. "If she's got the damned power, use it to save her!"

Rosenberg blanched. "But — she's Catholic, it's against her -"

A cry of alarm came from the direction of the crypt as the earth trembled once more. CJ leapt to her feet against the quake, tugging De Vega after her. "I think time's run out! Just do the damn spell, and we'll deal with the consequences later!"

+

Buffy wasn't quite sure what her backup had got up to, but as she called out for their help, she certainly hoped they were paying attention. The seal finished cycling open, and several of the Ubervamps she thought she'd destroyed crawled up into the crypt. Will made to attack one, but Buffy grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "They're stronger — you can't kill them, Will — they kill Slayers -"

"And if I don't try, who's going to?" he snapped back.

She took the knife from her belt and handed it to him, hilt first. "Use two knives. Go for decapitation, it's the only way." He made to charge off, but she held him back for a moment longer, anxiety playing across her face. "Be careful!" she hissed.

Will didn't respond as he turned and attacked the closest Ubervamp.

Buffy didn't see how he fared — she was too busy taking on an adversary of her own. She stumbled as the ground trembled a third time, but caught the sound of her backup entering the fray. Kick, kick, punch — this was the last time she crossed the country with out her Super Scythe! She managed to stake one of them, the result taking twice the effort of a normal vampire. The quaking ground didn't affect her moves much, but Lindsay seemed to be having a tough time of it. Buffy crossed to help, and they doubled up against several of the nastier looking vamps.

And then Buffy heard a howl, from the direction of the Hellmouth. She turned to find Will being dragged in from below, face red with exertion and pain. She didn't give a second thought — throwing herself into a slide across the dirt floor, she snagged his wrist before he could be pulled through completely. "Tossed one in," he hissed, almost inaudibly as he clung to the side. "Grabbed my ankle. Claws — teeth — dunno -" He closed his eyes, fingers flexing around Buffy's arm as she fought to drag him up. "Can't hold."

"I'm not letting you go!" she snapped, pulling harder. His shoulder seemed ready to dislocate, with the strain, but whatever held him was solid. "I've got to get you up here — when Willow stops the bleeding, you'll be crushed by the seal!"

"Get Zoey out," he whispered. "He's the real thing, Buffy. He's a great man, but he needs his family to lead."

No more Ubervamps were coming up out of the hole, as Will's struggling form blocked the way. The sounds of battle were fading around her, but she didn't dare to take her eyes away from him. For a brief moment, the pain etched on his face was the echo of another William — Spike, as he refused to remove the medallion that ultimately won their battle. It was a comparison Buffy couldn't yet face. "I'm not losing you, too!" she snapped, finally calling out, "CJ! Damnit, help!"

The edges of the seal were starting to glow, and Will's grip on her arm was growing weaker. Time was disturbingly short — CJ didn't need an explanation as she took hold of both of Will's arms and helped to heave. 

This time, they seemed to be making progress. As Will's torso cleared the edge, Buffy wrapped her arms around his chest and put all her supernatural might into the desperate battle. And they were winning, even as the opening of the Hellmouth shrank around him. Waist — knees out — an Ubervamp's teeth were attached to his calf (its head, too) and as the two Slayers managed to free the last few inches of Will's feet from the trap, it closed around the Ubervamp's neck and cleanly decapitated it.

The sounds of battle all around had stopped, and the earth was finally quiet, as the three lay panting for air on the ground inside the crypt. Finally, as Josh, Sam, Giles, Lindsay, and Kennedy surrounded them, Will pushed his way to a sitting position and rolled up his pants leg. "Shit," he exclaimed, as vampire tooth marks became visible on his left calf, "the bugger bit me!"

Buffy just let out a sob and snagged hold of his wrist, as the others crowded around.

+

When Zoey opened her eyes, she was confronted by a redheaded woman wreathed in a white light, which was slowly fading. At first, she thought she'd finally died and was seeing an angel. Then, however, the pain of her aching body brought her back to full consciousness. "What happened?" she whispered, afraid to move for fear of jolting angry nerves.

"One of them cut you," the woman said.

Zoey nodded tiredly. "CJ came in, and she was kicking vampire ass... and one of them grabbed me, and he cut my side, just a nip, and the metal was cold and felt — felt slimy, almost..."

The glow had faded completely, and Zoey found herself looking into the green eyes of a perfectly normal woman about her own age. "It was a magic weapon," the woman said reasonably. "A magic weapon used on a magic person. That's why they took you — do you understand?"

"I'm a witch, they said," Zoey replied, everything coming back slowly. "They said I'm a witch," she repeated. "Magic is real?"

"As real as vampires," the woman grinned, helping Zoey to sit up. "And you're a witch — or, you have the capability to be one. It's inherited, you see."

Zoey frowned, thinking for a long moment, before nodding. "Elizabeth Mercy Stanton," she said simply. "She was executed for witchcraft — but she really was one."

"Exactly," the woman said. She helped Zoey to her feet, whereupon Zoey rolled up her shirt to check the gash that had been on her side. It was gone completely — not a scar remained. "A magic weapon," the woman said, as if it explained everything. "Your blood was used for evil through it."

"But I'm okay," Zoey whispered.

"You're okay," she repeated, patting Zoey's shoulder. "You're okay. Now let's get you home."

"Home," Zoey whispered. Nothing could sound better. Home. 

Epilogue — Stayin' Around

It was an entire twenty-four hours before the heroes managed a break from the publicity. CJ was used to making news in her role as press secretary... but being the center of attention was a new and different experience, one she wasn't eager to relive. Hiding her superhuman strength was difficult where Danny was involved — hiding it in the face of the entirety of the White House Press Corps was another level entirely.

They'd attributed Zoey's discovery to Buffy, who had heard her cries for help' while returning to the scene of their attack to search for her missing' cell phone. Zoey claimed she'd never seen the faces of her attackers, all of whom had perfect grasp of the English language, and seemed to have blond hair. The attack was (correctly) attributed to the group who'd jumped CJ's entourage in the van and injured Donna Moss. The aircraft carrier was recalled from Qumari waters, and Glen Walken stepped aside for President Bartlet without incident — and public approval was at near the same astronomical levels following the assassination attempt at Rosslyn.

The Staff Scoobies, as Buffy had come to refer to CJ's coworkers, reassembled again in Josh's living room, joined again by Donna, who was still on crutches. She and Will were comparing battle injuries, while CJ was fending off confused calls from Toby Ziegler about a supposed father's day extravaganza, Josh and Sam were trading stories of their months apart, and Giles was napping in the corner. Finally, Buffy joined them from her short sleep in Josh's guestroom. "We did good," she proclaimed, taking a seat next to Will (and taking away his crutches in the process, as he'd been threatening to crutch-joust with Donna). "Baddies dead, Hellmouth closed at least temporarily, and important witch kid reunited with parent. So — yeah. What's the meeting called for, peeps?"

CJ and Josh exchanged glances. "Where are you planning on going from here?" CJ questioned. "Back to California?"

Buffy shrugged. "Sunnydale doesn't exist. No reason to go back there, I guess."

"And that Hellmouth in Bethesda is in place for good?" Josh asked.

"Well... there's a spell to close it, but it's not an easy thing. That's what tore Sunnydale to shreds. I don't think Capital Hill would survive an earthquake of that magnitude," she said, giving a shrug.

"They're trying to ask you to stay," Will shot in, "but they're too indecisive to actually ask outright.

Buffy paused. "Stay? Stay here? In Washington? But... I don't have a college degree. I can't get a job, here. And Dawn would have to come here. I don't know..."

"Take night classes," Josh suggested. "We can get you a paper-pushing job at the White House, at the very least. It's guaranteed for three and a half more years, you know."

"It's not a bad suggestion," Giles put in, proving himself to be awake and listening in. "It's either settle here... or Cleveland."

CJ wrinkled her nose. "Cleveland? C'mon, superslayer. You can train me up and show me how to beat down the demons, too."

"You can be the first of a new breed of Watchers," Giles murmured. "Watchers with field experience as actual Slayers. Slayers training new Slayers. A worldwide network, someday..."

"Not Watchers," Buffy said, thinking of the way Travers tried to use her to his advantage, and of the old woman who had examined her Scythe. "Not Watchers — Guardians. It's a new order, Giles. The old won't do, not even for a name."

"Guardians, then," Giles stated.

CJ lifted her can of beer, and the others followed suit. "To the new order!" she cried. "To Buffy Summers, the Guardian — whatever that is."

Buffy grinned as she was saluted by beer cans and leered at by a half-drunken, gimpy Will. It was all coming together nicely now, in the shadow of another Hellmouth — but this time, she'd be slaying at the pleasure of the president.

A/N: Alright, push that review button, and tell me your woes! I'd be interested to see what you predict for the future of the Capital Slayers — any suggestions? Critiques? Drop me a line!


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